and didn’t even realize it. Even when I was malnourished and only ate frozen TV dinners for three years straight. Even when I had to duck under the table once a month because of a shooting down the block. Even after eight hours of constant stress and avoiding a head-on collision with a semi truck while my mom kept falling asleep at the wheel at 4 AM, I still slept peacefully.
Perhaps I’m still alive because they kept their love for me. I was never threatened to bathe in bleach like my mom.
All of my morals still came from my parents. Maybe I learned them from witnessing the destruction my parents inflicted on themselves, me, and my family. If my parents loved me, why didn’t my Dad stop my mom from doing meth? Why didn’t they show up to the court hearing to transfer my
guardianship? Perhaps they taught me what not to be instead.
All of my morals still came from my parents. Maybe I learned them from witnessing the destruction my parents inflicted on themselves, me, and my family. If my parents loved me, why didn’t my Dad stop my mom from doing meth? Why didn’t they show up to the court hearing to transfer my guardianship? Perhaps they taught me what not to be instead.
Despite my parent’s selfish lifestyles, I still love them.
My eyes only saw blurry streaks of light during my mom’s death and memorial, the first time I saw my dad in eight months. I wiped the tears only to see how he was doing that day - finally sober. Making an effort to stay clean for the family. The first to offer a hug and keep our awkwardly solemn conversations alive. Trying. Loving. But in pain.
He’s a human, after all.
With an Electric perspective, I’m Andrew Hunt.
*U.S. Dept. of Health and Human Services
Every night was a reset I didn’t know I needed.
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