Remember; You Have the Universe

[ 24 ]

Cadence
is feeling
crushed
under the weight
of the future.
Even though
she has that
scholarship,
she is not
assuaged.
The idea of
moving out,
being independent,
making her own
decisions,
taking care of
herself when
she's down,
not living with
her dad,
who helps her
with homework,
and her mom,
who feeds her
and does her
laundry when
she gets
overwhelmingly busy,
not having
her parents
and grandmother
in the same
building
to love
and be loved by—
is crippling her.

She confides that
she doesn't
feel ready,
and that
when she tells
or friends
how elated she is
to escape
curfew
and rules
and her
grandmother's high
expectations,
she'd rather
have that
then be on
her own.
I tell her
she won't be
alone.
It might
feel that way,
but we're all
still here
for her.
Life will be
very different,
but her
parents
will still help
take care of her,
I will still be
her
best friend,
and her
grandmother
will still
expect
that she is
elegant and
proper;
and will
call her
every time
she's found
a boy
she deems worthy
of Cadence's hand.
This makes
Cadence laugh
harder than
she has
in a while.
She agrees.
But then
she turns around
and tells me
that I am not
alone right now.
I assure her
that I know;
the walking
medical degrees
breathing down
my neck,
Monique and Kjrsten
telling me
when my life
decisions
are wrong,
my mom stalking
my status,
Jeff trying
to be extra
involved
and my friends
trying to pretend
I am normal.

She insists
I don't really
know.
Because if I did,
I wouldn't
try to be
a hero,
and I'd let people
help me.

I ask if
weekly sessions
with the school
social worker,
daily hovering
check-ins with
Monique and
everything else
everyone does
isn't help.

Cadence says
I don't really
accept it,
and I'm too
secretive.
I tell her
if I'm secretive,
then she must be
a briefcase of
classified
information.
I think
she should tell
her grandmother
to ease up.
Cadence tilts her head,
giving me a,
"Whatever," look,
and challenges me
to tell Monique
when I'm actually
having a bad day
with my Emphysema
instead of
faking it
so I can leave.

We decide
we'll think about
our respective
requests of
each other,
and she scoots over
so she can
lay her head
in my lap.
I finger
her beautiful curls
and listen to her
talk about
all the things
that scare her
about
not knowing
what she wants
out of life.

I tell her
I've found something
better than
army tanks.
I tell her
I have
rockets full
of love for her.