Unlasting

Adrian

Some months ago.

My father had just cursed me out, mouthing so many expletives that I thought he must have been possessed by a demon to behave that way, and that would have been the best explanation, unfortunately we weren't lucky enough for it to be. This was a normal day in our house, except today I could barely hold it in, so I walked out of the room as my mother stopped him from coming after me. She has always been my biggest concern, I never understood her ideals and morals for staying with a man like my father. Her patience level was very high for a God-forsaken drunk like my father.

Growing up I heard them fight a lot and at one point I was diagnosed with depression because of them. That was when my mother stopped fighting with him, because she was afraid that their fight did more damage to me than their relationship. My father on the other hand couldn't give a shit about anybody else, and went about making multiple mistakes without a care in the world.

My mother forgave him everytime time but I couldn't, if only he apologized once, maybe I'd see him more as a father and less like a star asshole.

One time, my mother took to drinking—I believe, to help her cope with the monster she lived with—so, I asked her to leave with me and go somewhere else, but she said her home was with her husband and when I grew older I would understand.

I never did.

She stopped drinking though, but the first chance I got to leave, I did and never looked back. College.

I left, only coming home once in a while, the need to make sure my asshole of a father didn't hurt my mother more than he already did was stronger than my resolve to never come back home, and everytime I did come home, my peace ran out the door faster than the speed of light. This morning was the perfect example.

"Leave him alone. He feels terrible about it. He's your son, you know he'd never hurt anyone on purpose." I heard my mother explain.

She always had to explain even the obvious of things to him. I knew what happened was my fault. I felt so terrible that I lost all will to live, and I couldn't bring myself to work anymore. It was hard on me, I didn't need him making it worse. I was so close to insanity that if I had heard him say one more word, our rocky relationship would have drowned in the sea of unforgiveness for what I would have done. The incident haunted me so much that I had to move back with my parents against all the advice I gave myself.

"When I said you were spoiling him too much, did you listen? You fought with me whenever I yelled at him, now look how he's turned out. Ruining a happy home..."

"Enough. I won't hear another bad word against my son. Please I beg you, don't do this, you know he's very fragile."

A lump gets caught in my throat. I knew my mother could never forget about my depressed state as a kid, but I didn't think she thought I still had that problem.

Was that why she never left my father?

No. It couldn't be. Me being fragile could mean a lot of things.

"Of course. Don't say anything to our precious son or he'll kill..."

"I said enough." My mother yelled.

I can't remember the last time I heard my mother stand up to my father like this. She couldn't do it if he held her by the throat, strangling the life out of her, but she could do so much more if he tried to say something bad about me. I hated that.

I felt my eyes getting damp, wanting to leave the house as quickly as possible, I tried to move but my motor senses refused to obey me. Then the familiar thought hits me and I feel even more sadder, and guilty.

I'm in this mess because I drove angry. I can't make that mistake again, but if I stay in this house or even this town any much longer, I may go insane.

"Can't you see beyond your love for him?"

That was rich coming from a guy like him.

"It was an accident, Harry. Please stop talking about it. I'm begging you, please."

"Maybe it was an accident, but who's gonna answer when they come for restitution," my father yelled venomously, "Your love has truly blinded you."

"You're right. It's blinded me for years but now I see more clearly. I should have left you the day our son had the guts to say it. He wanted to protect me so much he was willing to part with his father at such a young age," she cried, every word breaking my heart more. I could only imagine how stunned my father looked.

"In case I haven't made it clear, I will always protect my son. We've been a family of two for years now, if need be, we'll continue to be exactly that."

Even though I couldn't see her, I could hear the anger and warning her voice carried just as loud as I could hear her footsteps coming. Before I could leave the sitting room, she appeared. She quickly turned away when she saw me, wiping away her tears, she conjured a reassuring smile on her face.

"I'll make you your favourite. You must be starving."

She hurried to the kitchen without as much as an okay from me. Ever since I'd been home she allowed me keep to myself, which I was grateful for, but now I had to leave and more importantly, I had to tell her why I was leaving even though we needed each other now more than ever.

"Why are you hugging me so tight."

My heart broke as she tried to mask her pain with a smile.

"Why do you love me so much."

Her smile grew. "I remember telling you as a child, that question of yours doesn't have an answer. But if I had to give one, I would say... hmmm... maybe because you're my son?"

She turns to face me.

"Well, neither does mine. But if I had to give an answer, I would say—"

"—because you want to leave." She cuts in, her smile fading the same time mine does.

She keeps me at arm's length, her piercing blue eyes staring intently in mine. I felt bare before this woman, like she could see all of my secrets and unanswered questions in my eyes. The wrinkles on her face reminding me more of the years that had gone by, making leaving her harder than I thought, and I knew if she said the words "don't go" i would stay back, all consequences be damned.

"I know you need to leave here to find the peace you've lost, I understand. But why does understanding have to make it a whole lot harder to let you go?" She wipes my tears, then hers. "I know how much you need it, so I can't stop you from going after what you need."

"Thank you, mum. For always being on my side."