I took her to school today. I had to tell her it was school to ease her little heart. She’d been talking about it for a long time, Everly. The place is really nice. I know you’d love it. I was getting lost for a little bit and Mickey came over and made me come to the shop. I did some work. I had Sadie with me. But I got to a point where I saw these guys near our daughter and just knew it wasn’t what I wanted. The smells. The music. The way they all talked. I couldn’t imagine not having her near me all the time but I had no choice.

See, that’s part of this thing… I have to move on. I don’t have a choice. I have to move on. There’s a house. Bills. Taxes. Food.

The first cable bill I got I ripped up. The second one, I lit it on fire and watched it burn to ash. Then they sent a warning letter that I hadn’t paid. I threw that one out too. Then they shut everything off. Right in the middle of a show. Everything fell silent. The TV screen went black. I had no internet connection. Nothing.

So I sat there in silence and wanted to drink. I wanted to go to a bar and drink.

But I couldn’t do that.

Sadie is the thing that keeps me steady. I don’t care how sad that sounds. It’s the damn truth.

She deserves something greater than all I’m trying to carry for her.

I sat her down and talked to her about going to school. I didn’t want to call it daycare. I didn’t want to call it a children’s center or some dumb thing. I wanted it to be school. Because she knew that kids go to school. So she got excited. She’s not happy there’s no school bus for her though.

The first week she was fine with it. Then came the questions. Damn, Everly, she’s you. Always has to have every little detail planned out. Everything needs to be so perfect. Her heart and mind are just so big. Even at her young age. I don’t think she knows what to do with it all. I wish you were here to help her with those emotions that creep up.

Sadie asked me about food, snacks, friends, teachers. She wondered about fire exits! You believe that. She saw it on a show where they were talking about emergencies. A kids cartoon with that shit. I guess in some ways it’s smart, but damn, why can’t kids be kids?

Well, then again, look at what Sadie has gone through. What fucking innocence does she have left?

I promised her we’d get her everything we needed. The place even let us take a private tour. Sadie got to see her desk and meet her teacher. Her eyes lit up when she saw the room for the first time. It’s amazing. The books. The posters. The letters. It’s exactly what she needs. No more having me worry about who’s going to say the word fuck or light up a cigarette too close to her little lungs.

So I took her to the store and guess what kind of backpack she picked out? Unicorn. Between you and her with the unicorn thing, I still don’t like them but I appreciate them. That’s all you’ll get from me on that.

I got her a pencil case, pencils, colored pencils, markers, crayons, and construction paper. Of course, everything I bought for school I had to buy for home. You know why? Because Sadie worried about homework. Under it all though she was worried about school. Going. Being accepted. I could tell. All this newness for her. All this change.

Call me what you want, but I caved and cleared out the aisle of supplies. You would have sworn I was going to supply an entire school with supplies for the kids.

Then came the first day.

Which is right now, Everly.

I’m writing this as I sit in my truck outside the building.

Her teacher joked with me and said I was allowed to sit as long as I wanted. Mickey told me to take as much time as I need. I’m trying to convince myself not to go in and get her.

Not because she’s crying, Everly.

She was a champ.

I walked her to the door.

I was told that’s where I have to let go. That if I go into the room, even once, it’ll become a hard habit to break.

So I crouched down. I kissed her. I hugged her. I told her I’d be there for her soon enough.

She smiled.

Not an ounce of fear in her little dark eyes.

She turned and walked right into the room.

I stayed crouched, rubbing my jaw.

Sadie walked right to her desk. She took off the backpack and put it on her chair. She sat down and went right to work, coloring a picture.

Then the door shut.

I heard her teacher’s voice but couldn’t see.

I stood up and walked away, realizing what I had just done.

I put the trust and care of our daughter into someone else’s hands. If you were here you’d tell me it was going to be fine. That it was part of life. Then you’d cry. I’d hold you for hours. We’d go through all the pictures of her. The pictures of us.

Instead, I’m sitting in my truck.

I’m holding it together, Everly.

I don’t know if I’m doing good or right, but I’m holding it together.

Everyday is some new change in this madness.

And everyday I keep reaching to my right, looking for your hand.

And everyday I just feel air. Cold, lonely air.

I love you endlessly,

Jake