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lately.
    Sasha has been my responsibility since she was nearly a year old, the first time her mom dropped her off in my arms and promised to be back. I believed her then, even though I knew never to believe a junkie.
    I wanted nothing more than for my sister to be different, to change, to take care of her own baby. It never happened, though. At first, she would come back for short stretches, convincing mom and me that she was clean, that she was going to shape up and do the right thing.
    Sometimes it was a couple of months. Sometimes a few weeks. Near the end, it was only a couple of days at a clip. No matter what she said or tried, she could never run from her demons. They always seemed to find a way back to her and she’d slip into the same old things she always did.
    Lying. Stealing. Manipulating.
    It was excruciating to watch that downward spiral, especially for my mom. She was dealing with her own health issues and the stress of having to worry about my sister was too much for her. Every time she landed in the hospital, I would curse my sister, convinced it was her who had really sent Mom there.
    I was trying to juggle school back then, coming home for semester breaks and vacations to help Mom as much as I could. It was clear it wasn’t enough though, so I packed up right after graduation, moved my ass back home and picked up the pieces as best as I could.
    The first piece to be picked up was Sasha. That poor little girl was being shuffled back and forth between Tina and mom. Every time Tina would play her sober card long enough for Mom to believe her as only an enabler can, she would hand the baby over.
    Every time Tina would show her true colors and go back to using, the baby would go right back to Mom.
    Well, no more.
    Not once I stepped in to clean shit up.
    There was no way in hell I was letting Tina get her track marked arms on that sweet little baby ever again. Sasha deserved to be safe. She deserved to be loved and made a priority. And, I did it.
    Looking back now, I’m not sure how I survived those couple of years. No money, as I could never seem to hold onto a job long enough to really count. Between Mom going in and out of the hospital and Sasha to care for, it was too difficult, nearly impossible, to work a steady nine to five. Especially with anything having to do with my college degree in math.
    I struggled. I cried. I prayed for someway to be able to pull together the rent money. I did it, though. We may have lived in a shit neighborhood, but Sasha always had a roof over her head.
    Then I met Dawson and everything changed. In a lot of ways you’d think it would have become so much easier for me not having to worry about money or having to handle things by myself.
    In some ways, it was actually scarier for me than being broke in a drug infested neighborhood, though. I had to learn to rely on someone else, to trust someone else enough to lean on them.
    That, above all else, was the hardest thing for me to adjust to.
    People leave.
    That’s what I’d always believed, always felt. My dad had left, well died, actually. Tina had left. Any punk ass boyfriend I’d ever had had left. It’s just what people did, I’d convinced myself.
    Dawson made me see things differently, though. I had to take a look at how I felt for Sasha. I could never leave her. So, I guess not everyone leaves. Dawson proved to me over and over again that he wasn’t going to leave either.
    He took on a woman in dire straits, her little niece and her sick mother as if we were his own. He didn’t have to do that and I’d even pushed him away at times preparing myself for the eventual fallout.
    I had to learn to trust him. I didn’t have to learn to love him, though. That came fast and hard almost the first time I set eyes on him. Big, strong, and rough around all the edges.
    He was intriguing. He was a mystery.
    He scared me at times with his temper, and amazed me with his gentleness.
    We’ve become a real family, one that’s only