there is food in the kitchen, snacks on the table, and actual house to go home
to, a loving mom who kisses you on the nose and tells you how anyone is lucky to have you.
a father that puts your needs and wants right before you as you ask them. no other family or cousins that you mention that you feel like they are messed up, or ruin what makes everything seem perfect.
and we are worlds apart.
i avoid home a much as i possibly can. working and occupying myself with being anywhere else but home. i get fairly surprised when i come home to dinner. a timed dinner with everyone gathered by the table is rare.
i always feel like an unecessary ornament. sometimes it hurts to see how she's working so hard to give us this life. i see debates showing up in platforms about how parents should never mention financial strains to their children in fear that they can feel less worthy or that their lives was a mistake made.
it hurts. she has no trouble in expressing where we are economically. it hurts. she had to pick herself up with her own two feet as soon as the only source of support left. it hurts. she had to toughen up no matter how hard it was.
it hurts.
we are worlds apart.
our souls are fragile. i dont want to lose you
