New Book... Chpt. 1 (rambling, getting started)

Prelude:

I'm not a stable person. I haven't been for some time now. My mind works in ways that nobody can explain. I know I have been a little inaccurate with the way I perceive some things. But at this moment, I am WAY off the mark.
I was still standing on his porch. I am still staring at the pile of absolute JUNK I had just piled onto it.
Silly things actually, things like his barbque grill, his steaks, his ash trey, condoms (not used), shirts, legos, a coat. Things he or his son had randomly left in my garage or home over the past year.
I am angry. I had just been dumped like a piece of trash. So I was doing the same thing to him, in my own way.
I slowly turned and walked back to my car. Suddenly remorseful, I started to go back and clean up the mess I had just made. He didn't deserve this.. not just because I wasn't the ONE for him. He had been nothing but nice to me and the kids up until the day he broke my heart. I surveyed the pile of crap on his porch and decided it was much too massive to even begin to clean up. So instead, I chose to call him and warn him instead. Might as well have him stop and clean it up before he picks his son up from my house right? Drew doesn't need to be a wittness to my instability.
Like I said, My mind perseives things differently than other people. Thus seems to be the reoccurant pattern of my life.


Chapter 1.

If I had the money, I would deffinatly take my things, my children and run away from my problems. I would be a runner. I would run to far away places where nobody could find me. Start a new life. Meet new people. Have new problems.
However, seeing as I am a very poor, very single, mother of two. I get to just hide under the covers of my bed, in my little rent house, in a very little town in Texas.
The constant reminder of two very wrong men smiling at me through two very right children.
I can tell you this much, being a mom is the best thing I do. I love everything about being a mother. I love my children with every breath I take. But the anguish I feel for what I have done to them by being single, and them having no father figure or role model in their life, that takes a toll on the mind as well.
My poor daughter has been through 14 years of my delimas. She has been the cause, the innocent bystander, and the reason for some of my break-ups. She has suffered along side me, and also suffered quietly in her own head. She is one of the smartest, most intelligent people I have ever known. And it scares me to death!
My son, well, with his big grey eyes, his dark brown hair, his chubby little cheeks and his big boy swagger, he just bounces along in this crazy current and just trusts and smiles at me. I am his world. I hope it stays that way for a little while longer.

We had been through this before. The sudden uprooting of love. My daughter had grown accustome to seeing a man one year, and suddlenly never again. However, this one was esspecially hurtful. He had a son. A sweet, energetic, funny little boy, that had weaved his way into our hearts, and fit perfectly in the middle of our strange little family. Casey was precious to me, and losing him was one of the hardest things I have ever had to endure.
I would be cleaning house and come across a piece of Bionical, and burst into tears. His trusting smile and 8 year old wisdom was so enduring. He loved me like I was his own mother, and I loved him. Simply put, He was my son.

After the day I piled Michaels front porch high with trash, I never saw him or Casey again. That chapter closed with a slam. I had messed up big, and the only ones left to suffer the confusion, was the three children.
Casey was never allowed to speak to me again.
My two soon forgot about Michael and Casey, Just a few out of the blue questions from my son, and a snide comment here and there from my daughter... and it was done.