Your feelings change over time. You’re on with your life. You’re well and wise and happy. You figure so much time has passed that there is no chance. You accept that—everyone else has after all.
But on a quiet night, you still wonder. You send a text, or call. And then you discover that nothing has changed. The person you think might have changed, has not. He has grown worse. He (or she) has settled into the sick, loveless person who estranged to begin with.
You listen to the self-righteous talk. Hoping to break through, you mention that you’re getting older. And then you hear the laughter. You’re surprised, sickened even, by the comment that people do die; that you will too; that that’s what happens.
You realize there is no remorse. It is all about a lie … A story … A tale that makes what they have done ok–in their mind, and to the people near them.
And you realize that you are really done. It is sad, but also freeing. So, so freeing.
It is the story I have heard from thousands of parents. It’s my story, too.
Good bye you say. And for the first time ever, you know you mean it.
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