We may be done with the past, but the past is not done with us
This is a journal, so for the first time, Im going to use it like it is one. Not an internet journal, but a real journal. The kind of journal we all knew before the introduction of the net. The kind of journal you spill every secret into, hoping other family members would not find.
Before my explanation of my night, I will give a prologue to my story.
My mother had an affair when I was a child. She was cheating on my father. My sister and I knew of it, but could not tell him. My youth consisted of going to bed to the sounds of my parents screaming at eachother all night. I knew what was going on, as well as my sister did. We could never sleep through the fighting. It lasted for years. I missed out on my youth because of this. Never had a great youth to begin with. So by the time I was in Junior School, I had lost what other kids considered a family. I didnt talk to anyone. My only friend was my neighbor, Mark. The house my family lived in would soon be sold as the divorce accured. I folowed my father, to live in an apartment for a while. Life moved on.
Tonight, after leaving a bar and drinking alot, I needed cigarettes. I stopped at a gas station near the outside of Alamo Heights ( where I grew up ). I decided to take a road that I once took as a kid when i first got my car. I dont remember the road, or the neighborhood, but I wanted to take it to remember my youth. I took it, and had no idea where it lead, yet I kept going the right way. It amazes me how the memory works. I followed the road, remembering nothing, and ended up at my old elementary school. I then drove to my old house.
The house where I grew up. I stopped in the middle of the street to look at it. Just look for a second and remember my youth. I started crying. This always happens when I go by it. I cried, and cried, and cried. Why did I cry? Was it for the horrible things that happend in that house, or for the simple fact that I miss being young? I think both. I had the Neko Case cd playing in the car, and the perfect song was playing as i sat there and cried. For some odd reason, the song made perfect sense for the momment. Like a movie, and it ended immediatly after I finished crying. It was beautiful.
Beautiful.
Before my explanation of my night, I will give a prologue to my story.
My mother had an affair when I was a child. She was cheating on my father. My sister and I knew of it, but could not tell him. My youth consisted of going to bed to the sounds of my parents screaming at eachother all night. I knew what was going on, as well as my sister did. We could never sleep through the fighting. It lasted for years. I missed out on my youth because of this. Never had a great youth to begin with. So by the time I was in Junior School, I had lost what other kids considered a family. I didnt talk to anyone. My only friend was my neighbor, Mark. The house my family lived in would soon be sold as the divorce accured. I folowed my father, to live in an apartment for a while. Life moved on.
Tonight, after leaving a bar and drinking alot, I needed cigarettes. I stopped at a gas station near the outside of Alamo Heights ( where I grew up ). I decided to take a road that I once took as a kid when i first got my car. I dont remember the road, or the neighborhood, but I wanted to take it to remember my youth. I took it, and had no idea where it lead, yet I kept going the right way. It amazes me how the memory works. I followed the road, remembering nothing, and ended up at my old elementary school. I then drove to my old house.
The house where I grew up. I stopped in the middle of the street to look at it. Just look for a second and remember my youth. I started crying. This always happens when I go by it. I cried, and cried, and cried. Why did I cry? Was it for the horrible things that happend in that house, or for the simple fact that I miss being young? I think both. I had the Neko Case cd playing in the car, and the perfect song was playing as i sat there and cried. For some odd reason, the song made perfect sense for the momment. Like a movie, and it ended immediatly after I finished crying. It was beautiful.
Beautiful.