Drown In Your Love (SLOW)

01: Smiles All Day (Not)

"All I've ever wanted is to feel understood." - faraway

MINA SOLACE

Am I weird that all I want is to be understood?

By my own family?

Is that weird?

Shouldn't your family understand you for who you are? For who you want to be?

I watch as parents sling their arms around their kids; buying them candy, wiping away the tears that run down their cheeks, placing kisses on their knees to soothe them, smothering them with love, and laughing at the unfunny jokes. Standing in front of their kids whispering words of encouragement.

They create beautiful memories.

While mine create unwanted and tired ones.

"I'm sorry."

His face is filled with rage, and he takes a step closer. Staring into my eyes, "Y-you," Grabbing my chin and tilting my face towards his, he brings my face close, until his breath hits my nose. "Need to be back right- after- you get home from school."

The smell of scotch fills my senses. I hold my breath not allowing it to go any further.

"I had after-school practice," I pause, "Dad."

I only wanted to be loved.

He releases my chin, turning around. Until his back faces me, as he stares out the window.

"Grab my credit card out of my wallet and go shopping, I don't care what the fuck you do. Get out of my goddamn sight," He says. "Just get out."

Just like Yelena, my younger sister-- who wears designer clothing, gets her nails done every other week and has boys at the palm of her hand.

More importantly, my parents. Or well my dad.

My parents are divorced. I have a stepmom and I have a stepdad who married my mom.

And the thought of that makes me laugh.

There's not much to Yelena. She doesn't care for me nor does she hate me. She doesn't pay attention to me.

I sit in the park as the sound of little kids' laughter travels through my ears. Sitting on a bench— alone.

I lean my head against the top of the bench, staring at the sky. There are no clouds in sight, all I see is dark blue skies as the moon is about to take over.

My mind wanders to all the memories I have of my dad. And most of them are filled with bad ones.

My chest goes up and down with each deep breath I take. My chest feeling heavy each time. I rub my eyebrows with my fingers, squishing them together at the thought of going back home.

I'm tired.

I close my eyes. Darkness overtakes my sight.

People say all the time 'Your family just wants what's best for you,' I know deep inside that they do but the way they go about giving me what's best is so so wrong.

Messing with my brain and emotions in so many ways. Telling me my emotions and mentality is messed up. I laugh at that.

What do you mean my emotions and my feelings are messed up? Who created this mentality in the first place? Them. That's what I want to tell my dad. He got me fucked up.

If my feelings aren't valid then his aren't either. The fuck?

I shake my head at the thought of that. Every time I think about this, it gets me so worked up. But I can't help but think about it.