Twice in one week.
I must need the therapy.

I really do.

Last night was our annual Halloween party at work. It was a bigger turnout than usual, I think that's due to the fact that we'll be closing soon.
But let's back up a little...

Before the party I went to the boy's steel pans concert. I left work early so I could go. It was really cool. I was pretty proud of him.
Thing is, it was also very strange. It just happened to be one of those random enlightening moments. Unfortunately for me, not a very pleasant one. And I think it was a spill over from earlier in the week, actually, when the boy and I got in a huge fight in the car on our way home one day. And not even that, it's something I've been noticing for several weeks now. Probably even months.
After his performance, he came and sat with all of us. I noticed the way he talked to and interacted with his father, and even his nana and papa (his father's parents). And I noticed the way he talked to and interacted with me. And they were very different from one another. He's very cool with me. He's been becoming that way for a while now. Like I'm not his mother, but just some outside person.
He generally only calls on me when he wants something; a ride to the mall, or the movies, or when I take him to and from school three days a week. And sadly, he has a habit of being fairly unkind to me at times. More often than I would like. And it comes easily to him. That's something I've been struggling with for months.
His visits have become shorter and fewer. I'm pretty sure that he never plans on staying with me again; I could probably turn his room into a craft room.
Last night, he showed up at his concert with his dad, stepmom, and half-brother, and he went home with them. I showed up alone, and I left alone. It was just a reminder that this is what my life with my son looks like now.
This distance that has developed between my son and I is heartbreaking. It no longer feels like the normal separation of a boy from his mother that my male friends keep telling me about. This is something else. It's cold, and hurtful, and sad, and unusual.
And I'm afraid we're going to become one of those stories of a parent and child who lose contact with one another and never speak to or see one another. Because he doesn't care enough, and I'm growing weary of the heartache.

And I drove home crying.

And then I got ready for the work Halloween party.

It was packed with people, as I said, primarily, I think, because everyone knows we are closing soon. I was afraid I would get stuck working; I usually do at all the big events. But when I got there, the kitchen manager was acting as the second bartender, and another bartender was heading up the costume contest voting. Things were chaotic, but fairly well under control. The only thing I had to do was make change out of the safe, and go to the store for ice, because our ice machine is on the fritz.
I only stayed for an hour, hour and a half. There were so many people. And I was just upset, I guess. About a lot of things. And I just wanted to go home.

I was upset about my son.
I was upset about the major lifestyle difference between my boyfriend and I, that I can't seem to get over, no matter how I try, and no matter how silly it might seem to some people.
I was upset about the bar closing.
I was upset about all the regret I live with. So. Much. Regret.
And I just wanted to go home.

And I sit here in the dark, at my kitchen table, drinking my coffee and smoking cigarette after cigarette, trying to cope with the fact that so many things are screwed up in my life right now. Most of them are out of my control.
I can't do anything about the bar. It's certainly out of my control. And it's a goddamn scary thing. One of the scariest things I've been through. To lose your only source of income, your financial stability...
I can't do anything about what's happening with my son. I can only wait it out. See what is to become of us. Continue to deal with the heartbreaking distance that forms between us, his unkind outbursts, his lack of interest... Just live with the heartache, until something changes. For worse, or for better.
There's really only one thing on that list I can do anything about. And just because I may be able to affect it in some way doesn't mean that it has a positive outcome. Because, let's face it, I really only have two choices where that's concerned, and neither choice is ideal. Live with it, or don't. Decide.
And the regret? There isn't a damn thing I can do about that. People say- "let it go"... or some other stupid, peaceful, relative mantra. But it sure as hell ain't that easy. Regret is a poison that doesn't leave you. It's not that easy to get rid of. And it seems to be killing me lately.

I'm finding it hard to be that positive person I've been trying to turn into. I'm starting to unravel.

More coffee. More cigarettes.