The Sun and The Moon (south park stanxkyle)

Why can't I be happy when there's definitely reasons I should be

It had been almost a week since Wendy left me, my mom left me and I punched out Kyle. I was still mad at Wendy for everything, I hated her. She had broken my heart over and over again but this time it was a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing pain the likes of which I had never truly felt before. She left me and left me when I needed her most. All the reminders of her were gone but still, the heartache remained. I hadn't talked to my mom since she left, my sister made her attempts to comfort me which was just texting me saying it was kind of annoying having mom there with her. I didn't answer any of her messages or any of the messages from anyone else.

I hadn't wanted to see or talk to anyone, despite the efforts made by Kenny. He tried to come to check on me but I wouldn't let him in, I wouldn't answer his texts or calls. I had completely cut myself off and wanted nothing to do with anyone. The guilt I felt for what I had done made it so I couldn't face anyone. I missed Kyle. I missed him so fucking much.

What the fuck did I do, I ruined the best thing in my life.

I stood in the bathroom staring at my reflection in the mirror. I pulled off my hat and shook my head a little bit. Goddamn, my hairs long I look like I have a mullet. My bangs now hung in my eyes and the hair on my neck was well below my ears. I took off my shirt next. My stomach was flat and didn't stick out as much as it used to, I had started needing to wear a belt when it had never been a problem before. I flexed my arms and gave myself a stupid grin. I didn't exactly have anything to flex. My arms had a slight bit of muscle that came from doing my chores around the farm, but still, they were thin and lanky.

I hated who I was looking at, something needed to change, I needed to change. I put my shirt back on, heading back to my room. Phone. wallet. earbuds. Check check and check. I made my mental list of what I needed for leaving the house. I hadn't left the house in the last week after what happened.

"Stan?" my dad called out as I reached for the door handle.

"What?" I groaned.

"Just long time no see huh?" he nervously laughed.

"Yeah your not exactly my favorite person right now,"

"I know Stan, I've been a really shitty dad. I was a really shitty husband too, now that your moms' gone, I miss her... a lot." I turned back to face him now. His face showed a genuine kind of regret and his voice was sad.

"yeah you have been shitty," he looked hurt but I didn't feel bad.

"I want to do better,"

"I think you missed your chance Randy," I said glaring, "You and Mom have been at each other's throats my entire life. Never once did you or Mom take the time to think about me or Shelly! we are both suffering but she got out! I'm still here and you both keep treating me like I'm not. it feels like since we moved here it's only gotten worse!" I started to get angry at him.

"For the last five years, my life's been a shit show, Dad. You guys are my parents your supposed to make it better not fuck it all up! And now that mom actually gone that's when you realize," I continued pausing to take a deep breath. "You should have realized years ago Dad that everyone here was miserable except you, " I stopped my face was red and I could tell my dad felt the hurt I had intended to give him.

"I'm sorry Stanley," he said looking down. It caught me by surprise to hear him say sorry and genuinely mean it. "Your right I should have realized earlier and I should have seen what your mom and I were doing to you." he sounded defeated. I turned back to the door and was halfway out when he said something else.

"We did notice Stan, we did see the change in you, I guess we just didn't want to admit to ourselves that we were the problem. " I let the door shut behind me and for a moment I stood on my front porch letting what my dad said fully sink in.

As I started walking I started thinking about everything that had been happening with my family. Throughout most of my childhood, my parents fought a lot, usually after my dad did something stupid or drastic but they always made it up by the end of it. There was a time before when my parents had separated but it didn't last very long, but that was the start of how bad it would start getting between them.

In fourth grade when my dad packed us all up and bought a weed farm without talking to any of us first. My mom smiled through it trying to make the best of it but we all hated it except for my dad who thought he was some kind of genius. After the first year of living on the farm, the fighting got frequent and more aggressive so to speak, and it took them longer to make up. Sometimes my dad would be on the couch or my mom sometimes one of them would be in a motel. They never got physically violent with each other just late-night screaming matches that would keep me from sleeping. it was always over the stupidest shit.

Once Shelly moved out I notice my mom and dad were sleeping in separate bedrooms, my mom had moved into Shelly's old bedroom. It was like living with two strangers. They avoided each other the best they could and when they had to be near one another it was always passive-aggressive with high tension between them all. I felt like I was starting to fade away. The fighting started to get bad again, they'd scream at each other and then come to me and keep yelling about what happened.

After five years, I found the divorce papers on the kitchen counter, they did need to tell me. there became an understanding that I knew. Now we were here, my girlfriend of 4 years or something like that broke up with me because I had too much shit going on I guess and my mom was quote "ruining summer break" for Shelly.

I stood outside the general store hoping they had what I needed. For some reason, it was embarrassing to go in and buy what I wanted but I left the store content with my purchase.