The Wall

I’m so tired of being the only adult in the room. Even when other adults are physically around, I mean. I’m the one carrying the whole internal map now. School stuff. Appointments. Clothes. Feelings. Schedules. Traditions. Emergencies. Tiny details nobody notices until they’re missed. The invisible labor that used to be shared, negotiated, distributed. Now it all bottlenecks through me. And when people say, “Let me know if you need anything,” I know they mean well, but what I need is not one errand or one casserole or one conversation. I need the structure back. The permanent other. The person whose responsibility this also was. That’s not something anyone can drop off at the porch. So I say thank you. I accept help where I can. I keep going. But deep down I’m still furious at the scale of what was removed.