They’re not the ones losing their hair, puking buckets, or getting their asses kicked at school. Our parents are not there to go through chemo treatments for us. We come into this world alone, and we die alone.
Not even my damn-near-perfect, loving, caring, powerful, billionaire parents. But ultimately, it boiled down to this: no one could take my pain away. They were decent parents, even my dipshit self had to admit. Sometimes, on bad nights, I was tempted to tell my parents what had happened to me. It would only complicate things, pushing my secret one more inch toward the light.Īs it was, the truth was clawing at me, leaving welts of uncomfortable reality. I decided on the spot that, despite Knight’s status as my closest friend, I wasn’t going to tell him I knew her. Fuck, I even rummaged her stupid-ass Instagram and found out what she watched and listened to just so I could understand her cultural world better and crack her, should the occasion occur.
She was a dark shadow following me everywhere, and I always tried to maintain the upper hand in our imaginary relationship. It didn’t even make sense, but I still looked-even at my own parties, where uninvited guests weren’t welcome.
0 kommentar(er)
