ifs and buts

She appeared at the stationery cupboard while I was furiously hole punching the late documents.
“I’m sorry, Kell” I murmured in defeat.
“it’s okay” she said, exhausted. “it’s just… client work really needs to be on time, hey?”
There was a pause from me.
Her at one end of the bench.
me hiding at the other.
“did he have all the stuff for his meeting?”
There was a pause from her.
And then this look was on her face.
Of confusion and tiredness and carelessness and a sad bitterness.
“I don’t know”.

And so this is for Kelly.
For the look she gave me this afternoon.
Where, in her eyes, I saw how little she cared for a bit of fucking printing.
For her 5am starts and her 10pm finishes.
For the five hours over time she does every single day,
that doesn’t get counted.

And this is also for Michelle.
For the two days she has to send her one year old to day care.
For the scuffs on her shoes, and the crinkles on her blazer.
For the times she admits ‘dieting defeat’ and eats McDonalds at her desk.

This is for Ed.
For waiting until his children and wife are asleep, before he cleans the house.
Every night.
Only to wait for them to wake up and muss it up again.
Every day.
“You wait until you have children, Catelyn… you’ll be a real pro at cleaning kitchens by then. The only difference is that it’s not accountants you’re cleaning for… you’ll do it because you love them”

This is for Aaron.
For only eating a banana for dinner.
Because the shops had closed by the time he’d finished going through his worklist.

This is for the mother who changes her heels to sneakers,
so she can walk home quicker.
For ignoring people like me,
who laugh at how lame it looks.

This is the woman in the street,
who just took a deep breath,
stopped,
paused.
took another breath.
and kept walking.

This is for my own Dad.
For giving up his graphic designing business.
For calling up every client he had,
and telling them he couldn’t do any more work.
For never blaming his family for the broken pieces of his old dreams.

This is for those that give themselves,
in the pursuit of the thing they love most.
For those who give themselves up.
For the bodybuilder studying business management.
The Sydney business man working distance in Tasmania so his five year old doesn’t have to change schools again.
And the accountant waiting to propose to his girlfriend.
This is for you.
Too long I’ve put you in a world that was so far from my own.
A world of ‘why the fuck would you choose this as your career?’
When really you’re just the same as me: a kid chasing a dream.
and so this is my apology.
For once deeming your world pathetic.

 

“Prune?”
“yeah, Tig?”
“I’ve had a really bad day”

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