through the many things I've written about my parents, in this book started nearly a year ago now,
I uncover a lot about them.
they had me young. they had me dumb. they had me with no instruction manual and absolutely no parental guidance, their own parents had been shit.
I despised them most of my very short life and I still partially do, and as I quickly approach the ages they had me the more I realize I have no place raising another person so young and that they made the wrong choice
but it's also terrifying. to sit where they once sat, to consider my entire childhood and absolutely no adulthood because I haven't reached that point yet, and realize all three of us stay at this same age. forever. because I paused their development so they could nourish my own.
it's partially sad to look through my baby photos and stare at pictures of my parents so young, so young that not even a wrinkle or a white hair shines through them, so young that they could be mistaken for my friends if those versions of them existed now,
and they had a baby. and they really had a baby. and now they're forever stuck that young watching their baby outgrow them
but at least they did this one thing right. at least this one had the chance to grow
