I've been thinkin' 'bout my father lately The person that he made me The person I've become And I've been tryna fill all of this empty But, fuck, I'm still so empty And I could use some love
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It was a big move, out of my old house to an apartment with the only adult figure I would continue to have in my life.
The divorce between my parents had been settled and as much as I hated that it ended the way it did with them, even at 16, I knew that their relationship was beyond repair. Being an only child just made it worse because it crept up to me at night when I would hear my mother crying in the kitchen, trying to muffle her sobs with the mittens she would use when she baked.
But alas, adolescence is something we all go through and it had matured me beyond my years. I was sixteen, yet the burden of having to be an emotional pillar for my single and working mother was heavy on my shoulders. However, there was no time to be selfish and demand fun while doing the same things other kids would do my age because it was just the two of us.
I remember praying for a friend one night, someone who I would be able to talk to without having to see the look of judgement on their face. I was an introvert and a feeler, quite sensitive to those around me and I could see it in their eyes that they weren't the least interested at how I was coping with my parent's separation.
But I understood; and slowly and surely, I began to distance myself from the rest of them.
And then I met Nana.
It started off when my mother was having another one of her mental break downs. She was mumbling on how she had lost all of our old photos from one family reunion. She wanted to make a scrapbook, another hobby she had picked up in order for her to distract herself.
