Indecorous

Chapter Two: Meeting the Parents

To every maturing flower, there's visibly a longer stem, large leaves, and blooming, bright pedals. But, something that the average human doesn't really ponder, is the extensive roots that are below the surface--keeping the flower steady and solid.

Sometimes, as we age, we encounter different experiences that correspond to our roots. Whether it's the family that raised you, the people you surround yourself with, or even just your own trial and error, your roots come from somewhere.

Having established roots allows a person to develop well fortified morals and beliefs, something people often come short of. It allows you to remember where you come from when you're in a position that's tough, or even when your in a fight with someone close to you. They enable the interpretation of emotions, hardships, and physical indifferences to be determined at such a strengthened level.

Behind me--in the roots--was my generous, loving family whom I'd came to realize were my strength. It had occurred to me when I was leaving the house for the first time, when I recognized how much I truly relied on my family. It wasn't merely for the income or the roof over my head, but rather, the great deal of steadiness they provided me.

My mother was the one I confided in, being the one I told most of my secrets to when the time was right. Of course we would have our little banters here in there, whether it was about me not arriving home on time or even stealing her shoes. I'd loved my mom to death, not necessarily knowing how mentally sane I would be without her.

My father was my soft-hearted, charismatic, comical best friend who joked with me 'til no end. He was my protector, picking me up late at night when I wasn't fit to drive--and not confiding with mom when I would magically appear home in the morning. I'd loved him dearly, knowing deep in my heart that I was very much a 'daddy's girl.'

Then there was my brother, Ayden. My egotistical, stubborn, quick-witted twin sibling that looked out for me, even when he was mad. He was rather arrogant and charming, trying to hit on most of my friends that I'd bring for sleepovers. I remember back to when I physically wrestled with him, completely fed up with his shirtless bullshit. I couldn't possibly imagine my life without him, he meant the world to me, even if he made out with Aviary. (I will never live that down)

My family had a very solid influence on my life, giving me an outlook on a stable home life. I couldn't thank them enough for that. Even at the age of twenty-three, I still miss them dearly, silently wishing I could just pop in and say, 'I'm moving in again.'

Obviously I couldn't do that, knowing I had a job to support myself and a commitment towards Aviary for the apartment. She was probably one of the best roommates, as we had grown up with each other since the first grade and she knew how I liked everything. I was also a reflection of that, acknowledging she liked her privacy as much as I liked mine. We were very similar in many ways.

Which leads me to the day when another event fueled my blooming experience, starting in my apartment.

It was a rather hectic day at the office, seeing as I was running errands, completing article checklists, and trying so desperately to finish my own article. By the time I was suppose to go home, I barely touched the article that was due by midnight that night. So of course, I hurried to the apartment, pouring a cup of coffee, and began typing away.