I Wanted to Run Away Today

6.25.25

I can’t remember the last time I didn’t want to come home. But today, while I was at the office, I checked my personal email and saw a delivery notification. The sender’s name stopped me cold—it was the package with keepsakes made from Tyson’s mane and tail. One for Kendall, one for me. We knew it was coming, but the confirmation still hit like a life brick to the face.

Kendall is still deep in grief and the sadness of losing him. Tyson was one of her best friends, her constant, her comfort. She feels like her purpose died with him. And I can’t fix it. I can’t protect her from this kind of heartbreak—and that’s a different kind of pain for me.

For a moment, I wanted to run away. Just…not go home. Not face reality. And for about sixty seconds, I thought about how a drink while I opened the package would numb everything. But then I remembered what a horrible fucking idea and destructive lie that is.

So I went home, opened the package, and called Kendall on FaceTime so she could see the necklaces, bracelets, and keychains. We talked, we remembered, we sat with it all. And I did it sober. Present. Willing to feel every bit of it. That’s growth. That’s recovery.

Gold star for today!