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Blow up

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It’s pretty bad when even your apology ends in a fight but that’s what happened tonight. So now I’m sitting here in the dark hoping that you’ll come down stairs and give me a chance to try again to talk to you.

Dad found vape pods in your back pack tonight. A LOT of them. And since we’ve had this talk a million times he overreacted. He blew up. He told you if any of that comes into our home again you are out. Done. No more.

He was not aware that just last week you told me that has been on your mind. And now you feel like we’re holding it over your head. He feels like we are trapped because the rules we set don’t matter if there’s no punishment behind them. I feel like none of it matters because you’re only still living here for the convenience of it. You don’t want to move away from your friends but you’re not ready to move out together yet. It hurts me to feel like we’re just a roof for you.

I don’t know what I expect. It’s just hard. Because when things are good they are great! You check in regularly, you have a meal with us once a week. You play with the girls and they LOVE you. And then for no reason at all we enter seasons like this. When you’re distant. You don’t check in. You sleep through school. You say hi when you come home but only in passing as you run up to your room and lock the door. I think it only hurts because of the drastic difference and the way it makes me feel.

You closed the door in my face tonight when I said I don’t believe you’d be there for me if some emergency happened. I guess that’s not fully true but I do think it depends what kind of week it is for you. Are you in a good mood or not?

Dad says we need to be better about unconditional love. I feel like I have unconditional love for you. I still love you. What I don’t have is thick skin or emotions of steel. I miss you when you push me away. It hurts when you choose your friends over me—especially when I know those friends are helping you make poor decisions. You choose them because they help you escape reality for a little bit. I don’t want you to run from me.

Soon you’ll be moving out. I don’t want that to be the end of our relationship and sometimes I fear that it will be. But I still love you. So tonight I’m sitting in the dark and praying you’ll decide to come talk and trying not to cry when I hear your door lock again.

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