I Showed Up

I didn’t go to prison.

But my life still changed.

⸻

Nobody warned me about this part.

About marrying a man who’s already served 25 years and won’t come home until July 2029.

About loving someone whose address is a prison number and whose voice comes through a phone.

About building a marriage without children,

but with two dogs who feel the silence too.

⸻

Nobody told me what it would feel like

to be the first visit in nearly twenty years.

When I walked in to see him in 2022,

he hadn’t hugged a loved one since 2004.

Nobody warned me what it would be like

to become the only family who stayed.

He was adopted as a baby.

The people who were supposed to be his family

won’t answer calls.

Won’t respond to letters.

Just… disappeared.

⸻

So I show up.

I showed up before the wedding.

I showed up when we married in June 2023.

And I show up still.

I plan my life around visit days.

My mood shifts when the phone doesn’t ring.

“Everything’s fine” became something I say

even when my heart knows better.

⸻

I live out here.

But part of me is always in there.

⸻

People don’t see that.

They don’t feel the waiting.

They don’t feel the quiet after visits end.

They don’t feel how heavy it is

to love someone the world has forgotten.

⸻

But I do.

And if you do too—

drop a 💙

You’re not alone.