I’m betting on a life story.

This is my second blog and I want for it to be a sort of life story one.  This is going to be hard for me, but I am ready. I was inspired by the book A Million Little Pieces and I want to write about who I am, and who I was.  My hope is that even if you don’t know me, you can see who I am.

rule

The couch is comfortable but I am not.  

I sit, staring at her, she is crying. What did I do? What am I supposed to do?

She says to me that they just wanted to help, that she is sorry that she hasn’t been the best mom, that she doesn’t want me to leave yet. She gets mad.

Haven’t we been through this before, don’t I already know this? Dad said I’ve been gone too much. He gave me the list of rules for when I go. What was he thinking? Rules.  

She said they are just a guide, meant to keep me on track.  When have I been off track that they knew about? I’ll admit that the past two weeks have been different, I started to show the part of me that came undone. Hell, I took my uncle’s car from the driveway and got caught. That is more hilarious than it is revealing. 

I know that it is just my dad clinging. He is clinging on to me with all of his might. He is trying to make up for the time lost by showing that he is still in charge and still in control. 

The thing is that as I sit and stare at her, he is not there. He is at work. He is in another town. He is at church. He is in the next room talking to his brother. He is talking to Roger. He is riding his motorcycle. He is cleaning the house. He is telling me to go and clean my room. Go away. Hurry up and come back. 

I cry. It is what I do now and I hate it. I feel guilty because she hasn’t been a bad mom. I feel guilty for making her cry.  But this is natural right? This is what everyone goes through. 

I am leaving. I am a child. I am old. I am ready. I am anxious. I am lost.  I’m stuck.