Family

Losing someone is hard. But knowing where someone is and where they are going is the hardest. I kind of wish he did runaway, at least I know that he would still be here, in calling or seeing range. Having to read where they are going is hard for me to grasp. I guess there isn’t really any difference now and how we were last year. The only difference is that he won’t be here. My memories of him are hidden by hurt and tears and his history. But I remember every time he called me beautiful, or he was proud of me. But I remember his smile and his laugh. He’d make this sound and he would run out of breath. I guess you could say I have his laugh. My mom said that he used to have long hair before he cut it off and it would always grow so fast. My hair is like that. But I also remember him never being there for me. I remember all those nights I stayed up waiting for him to show up and he never did. He didn’t even call to tell me. I remember what SHE would say about me like I wasn’t even there. She thought I couldn’t understand, but I’m smarter than I look. I remember the time the little girl said I was ugly and she hated me. Maybe didn’t say anything or do anything. Remember all the bad things, but my memory is hazy on all the good things that happened. Now that he’s leaving, I’m trying so hard to remember all the good things so they’ll cancel out all the bad. All I can think about though are the times I’m with my mom and my lil' sis. I don’t consider THEM, and the rest of that family MY family. I consider them my past, and my past always catches up to me. I love them, but I can’t be there for them, and that is all me. I can call them and maybe see them when I can, but that won’t make me there family and they won’t be my family. I know they love me very much, but isn’t it harder to love someone and consider them family if you never see them and you don’t know anything about them? I haven’t seen them in almost four years. I don’t know how old they are or what grade they are in or even what their favorite color is. I’m supposed to know all these things, but I don’t and I feel really bad about that. But it’s a two-way street. They could’ve picked up the phone and called me or my mother. Her number hasn’t changed. I’m jealous of my lil' sis because she will never meet her father. I envy the kids who have a dad who is there for them and a stepmother and half-siblings that are there for them and they can see them every day and know that they love you. I don’t have that, but I wish I did and I wish I didn’t.