You call on the phone.

Nicer than you have usually been.  Singsong, a narration of life events.

But then;

You are taking the kids for a long weekend in Florida.

We both know it is an insult. One directed at me.

My lack of a well paying job. My lack of financial security.

I had tied that all up in 'we'

and that doesn't exist anymore.

Instead I vacuum office floors and shop at the Dollar Store.

Our daughter won't go in there with me, the trips are made when they are at school.

We don't have cable. My grandparents pay the heating  and electric bill.

You, the one who makes six figures: pays nothing.

But there is a trip to Florida.

We had planned to do it all together last year, but instead spent the money on useless therapy. 

And who am I to deny the opportunity for travel to the kids?

That does not make me any less jealous. 

You invited me to go, if I could get my own airplane ticket and room. But we both know it can't happen. It would be the money I need to spend on groceries and gas. How could that be a responsible choice for any man?

I cry. Stupid tears of self pity. 

I fight.

Blue is my color you know.

Alone, blue becomes the uninvited entity. Haunting my world with an all too real tint to everything.

Blue lives strong in me when the sky is gray for days, when rain is followed by frost.

Blue holds me down to the ground making the soft carpet bite into my cheek 

Blue's thighs are astride my hips, and I welcome it. But still I fight to stand, to hold blue firmly in one hand while I reach back a push against the floor.

Yet there is more blue at the window, more blue at the door.

But I fight.

Sitting in the sun, raking leaves, talking on the phone, smoking cigarettes. 

Two more days until the kids come back. 

So blue may be here another day.

I fight.
                 Sometimes it takes everything.