17 BLACK | HS

FIVE

Miller Langley

Family's a weird thing isn't it?

The way that everyone's experience with it is completely different.

Some people love their family. They can't get enough, always wanting to be at home and bragging to their friends about them.

Others can't stand their family. Wanting nothing more than to get two minutes of peace with no one around. Hoping to move away as soon as they can and never look back.

Some people have big loving families, wanting nothing but the best for each other. Wanting to be around each other and spend time together. Nothing but happy memories of two parents and happy siblings– best friends with each other.

While others have families that don't quite seem like families. Yelling and violence in the home, wanting nothing but distance from each other, hoping you'll get an extra five minutes of peace at any moment possible. Just five more minutes alone before the daily hell that is their everyday life ensues.

Some people come from broken families while others are whole. Happy or sad, two parents, one parent, no parents– any which way it occurs, every experience is unique.

And my experience is no exception. Wild and unique in more ways than one. Always surprising even myself, never quite knowing what'll come next. If I'll be happy and content, or sad and envious of others.

Only child, parents divorced when I was three, mom passed when I was six, then moved with dad to LA– changing everything. His hard exterior is very thorough in convincing people he barely has a heart, but his love for me is one of the only things I'm certain of in this life.

My mom and I were two peas in a pod when I was a kid. She was my best friend, and even though her and my dad didn't stay married, the love he carried for her was still prevalent. He bears his love for her through me still to this day– even when it doesn't feel like it.

The side of my father that is strictly Xavier Langley stays present for the majority of the time. His hard exterior and cold projection makes it hard to remember the good sometimes. Every once and a while I find myself thinking of what it might be like if I just left. Ran away, started over somewhere new, and tried to reset my mind and body.

Sometimes I yearn to feel normal. To feel, period. And even though my relationship with my father is fine and as much as I know he loves me– he's still fucked me up.

The love hate relationship I carry with him is only heightened when he puts being my asshole boss over being my somewhat loving father. Nine times out of ten I find myself struggling to remember if he actually cares about me or just the success of his business. He aggravates me more than not, making it difficult to remember the loving side to him. And yet, I still find myself here, every Thursday night for our mandatory family dinners– even though our family consists only of him and myself.

Dad says it's important to have familial continuity in our lives, but half the time it just feels like a punishment. I love my father –and I know he loves me too– but sometimes he makes me want to add him to my hitlist.

It's been over a week since he suspended me, and last week I added fuel to the fire of his anger by skipping our little family dinner. I couldn't sit in the same room as him after he treated me like some amateur, and now, all things considered, he's not very happy with me.

The night started with a little silent treatment coming from his end. I, naturally, hopped on the bandwagon once I realized what he was doing– two can play this game, and if you couldn't tell, I'm very competitive.

The high pitched scraping of my fork on the glass plate in front of me seems to annoy my father more than myself, causing him to break the silence between us for the first time tonight.