Homesick. people talk about it when they're far from home, and just want to go back, or maybe they're on a business trip and can't wait to get home. Far from whatever place they're at, and just go home and be greeted with whatever they left behind. this is the first time I've ever felt it. It's often described as missing home while being far away or when, you remember your childhood and you feel that homesickness, and you just wish you were back in those days? That how I feel right now, as strange as it sounds coming from a broken home, where my father was a drunk, and a drug addict. He would even hit my mother and me. A home so broken that, In the end, she couldn't take it, and she left. She abandoned me, she left my father a note saying:
I'm leaving. I can't stand you. I'll leave the girl with you. I don't want her anymore.
I want to go back there, it's better then what's happened now. I'd rather be back in those days than these. If only, I hadn't gone to that stupid school. If only, I hadn't left home to find myself in that stupid feeling of love. That stupid feeling, that when fallen into it, it's almost impossible to get out of. It's like doing drugs, it's so addictive that I can't stop, and i just end up wanting more. Now I know why my father can't stop his addiction. It's just so perfect that you can't stop and won't stop if given the chance, until it's completely ripped away from you and you're left there feeling hopeless and-and afraid. and I don't know what to do anymore. This is the story of how my life got completely flipped, turned upside-down, Where I lost the one person I loved the most. Where I lost my perfect addiction. My lost love...
Enough with all the lovey-dovey details. Let's start with my how this all started, with how It all began: My mother.
I was little when she left. Maybe six or seven years old. It gave me nightmares sometimes, It's like I would dream the same thing every night, and each time it would replay in my head, but It's like... I'm not me, and I watch my mother leave. No matter how much I would scream and shout at myself to move, I didn't. It all started with a fight, like always.
"You never listen to a word I say! and I'm sick and tired of it!" Mom screamed at dad.
He looked so...so angry. His face was a dark red, from yelling. "Well, you know what! I'm the man of the house, you should be listening to my every word instead of complaining! I bring the food to the table, I bring the money! So, you should shut that fucking mouth of yours before you regret it!" he yelled even louder. I remember It was night time, and I had been sleeping and I heard this. I got out of bed slowly and opened the door a bit, just to peek. And I regret it. I should have just stayed in bed.
"you know what I regret? I regret having that fucking kid with you, my mother was right when she said I should've gotten an abortion. and she was certainly right when she said you were a good for nothing piece of shit man! you're so fucking oblivious to what is going on around in this family, but hey! Maybe all the those fucking drugs you do will help us with the rent and bills."
my eyes opened wide, as the tears ran silently down my face. I knew what to expect. she should've known better than to yell at him. She should've known...You could hear the sound of my father slapping mom. Then, there was silence. A silence so thick, you could have scooped it up and ate it like icecream. Mom put her hand against her cheek, tears rolling down her face from the pain, and looked at my father like he was crazy, which he was.
"HEY! that's no way to talk about our fucking kid." he grabbed a strong hold of mom's shoulders, as if trying to comfort her. " Look, I know we ain't making any money right now, but the gig with Edgar is going to work. Trust me." dad reassured mom through his drunken haze.
