I am a happy person. I really am. Except when I get to my mom's house.. then I question my happiness. This is probably the worst thing I could do to myself. All I want is to be able to look up and see a shooting star, and be able to let it go, because I have nothing to wish for. That's not the case though..
When I look at the whole happiness situation while I'm somewhere other than my mother's house, everything is ok. I can tell myself that I actually am happy, and I can actually believe it.
It's just when I get to my mom's house..
My mom. My mom and her girlfriend. My mom, her girlfriend, and my sister. Me. When my sister and I are dropped off after school at my mom's house, and everyone says hi to everyone, all hell brakes loose, basically.
No one can get along, everyone gets depressed, it's a big fucking mess.
I of course think it's my fault, because they don't fight when I'm not there. The thing is, as time passes, (see, it's been this way for about 6-7 years.) I come to find that I give less of a fuck every time a fight erupts. I can't decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
But I'm sitting here at the park now, and I look up to see what? A shooting star. And the only thing I'm wishing for is: "A place to come home to that won't offer shitty feelings and increase my strength to hold back tears, because, well, that shouldn't be necessary, right?"
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