I feel like a child at Christmas right now, the way I'm laying on the floor upstairs and eavesdropping on the parents. Talk of divorce, money, houses, medications, and choices echo through the house. Dad, how many times have you reached for that bottle? Mom, when will you stop acting like a child?
They're talking about splitting items in the house and who gets what. Dad wants lists, mom wants to harp on and on about what things mean to her. What to do with the pots and pans, the TV, the drapes and the bed? Maybe I want some things... oh well, they never bring up anything to me. Whatever.
I don't know where I'm going with this. My parents have seriously led me to believe that love doesn't exist. My dad mostly. He's so continental, so cosmopolitan, so clever and so closed. If anyone, he's painted the perfect picture of a man. Lies, cheats, argues, bad choices, vices, ugh. No wonder I have trust issues.
Luckily I found someone to change my outlook on life and remind me that love and happiness can exist and me true. I don't have to worry anymore. I just have to keep looking forward, forget all of this bullshit, and have my happily ever after.
xx Through The Mist, Through The Woods Marz
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