The Parent Trap

I always say how I never say I am sorry about things. I just try not to do anything to fuck folks over and hope they return the favor. People say sorry to me and I don’t know how to take it. I mean, I’m not gonna forget what they said or did. So I don’t accept the apologies. Damn it. What is a man to do?

Whenever I think about my childhood I have some fun ass memories. I remember jumping from roof tops, riding in shopping carts, wrestling with my brothers and cousins, riding my bike in the backyard for hours until I remembered that I had to eat. But then I recall all the bad shit. The alcoholism from my dad. Being beaten. Having my own mother call me an asshole like it was my actual name. Parents of the Year candidates, they were not.

I know the thing that bugs me most is that they haven’t apologized. Yeah, it makes no sense. I don’t accept them and I figure its because people say them and all’s I can think is “Why the fuck don’t my parents apologize for how they treated me?” The things is they don’t remember. They legit never even acknowledge it. My mother has the memory of a goldfish and my father was drunk during most of my childhood. How can I expect someone to apologize for something they don’t remember? Oh, now you see the dichotomy I have set myself (or was born) into?

I used to wish that my parents would divorce. They split for a few weeks and it sucked so much dick and ruled so much ass at the same time. Like, on the weekends we stayed with my father and it was awesome. We went to church and I got to see my family that my mother let us see. We would rent movies (one of them being “American Tail” which I cant watch to this day because it made me cry like a bitch). And my fish tank was there. Then it would end and we’d have to go back to my mother and live in Sucksville, CA. Oh, and during this time I got hit by a car. Good times.

I know that one day I will have to forgive them. I know this. But damn it, it seems like I’m gonna fight it until the end. Maybe one day I will have an epiphany and all will be forgiven. Who knows? Stranger things have happened. Until that day I will keep seeing them once a year, not calling often, and keeping my life private from them. Rockets.