To tell a story

I never planned to tell my story piece by piece bit by bit but in a way it feels good nobody knows me and I can say it all. No looks no pitty my private confessional. I never felt so sad as the day I was out working I am not sure of my age all seems to run together now...from years of trying to forget and bury it. The information is still there just the order that is confusing at times. I was no more than 12. My Mom drives by...she sees me I know...I look...I wave she just drives right on past me. Like a stranger, now I feel so alone so empty, summer camp with the new family is over, it is for real I am here to stay. No tears flow, not now, not here. Years later I find out that my new Dad my foster Dad saw it all, he saw it all.