The Firefly Field Theory

|2| This is Exactly Why I Don't Drink: Part II

Why hello there! How are you today?

Good haha! That's great, feeling hearty?

Lovely hat by the way, such unique taste!

(okay I am done acting all Victorian-era British on you, yes! you! come on! How can you be so forgetful?)

Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to someone who helped me a lot! Thank you for that:)

Read On and drop a VOTE and COMMENT if you like the story so far.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

PART II:

Only last year my mom told me that dad had left America and went home. I didn't understand what that meant at first, when dad left three years ago I was told he had to go on a business trip, I'd talk to him over the phone and ask him where he was and I'd get the names of places on the American side of the globe. So for mom to come out and say I was imagining dad on the wrong side of the globe and that he was 'home' was all too confusing. It took me some time to come to terms with the fact that he had left America and went to Pakistan. And has not returned ever since, whenever bad news comes up on BBC mom rings him up and he either says that he is heading there now or that its miles away from where he is and he wish he could be there. Which also suggests to the enlightened mind that he has cracked or something. Maybe it's just me.

Now I want to ask her something," Mom did something happen? Is he alright? I checked the news all day, there has been nothing bad happening there? What's wrong?"

"He's alright, nothing is wrong." she says.

I'm still making the worried face and thinking that once again I'm being kept from knowing my dad's whereabouts. Mom says,"Samha always remember him; you know he loves you right?"

Mom, dad loves every human being on Earth,"Yeah I know." I say.

"Samha I know this is sudden but I just wanted to tell you that you are so much like him, you remind me of him and I know one day you will realize this too."

I look down and nod slowly; I am absolutely nothing like my dad. I never was and I never will be. I feel sorry for mom, why does dad get to leave and mom has to take care of a troubled teenager, it doesn't seem fair. If he loved her he would let her live her life like she wants to and I'm sure mom doesn't enjoy dealing with someone like me. Who would? I mean honestly, even I don't enjoy dealing with someone like me. I am honest to myself about my disgust for myself. Which is crazy talk.

I'm opening the box of Dunkin Donuts and thinking, when mom hugs me and kisses my forehead, and says, "Samha you are the best thing that has ever happened to us, I love you with all my heart."

Alright, how did she do that, first divining my future by naming me Samha and now reading my mind? I devour my sprinkle donut and head for my room. On my way I tell mom," You know, if you are feeling extra touchy feely I could get you on Skype with dad, and you could see him and hear him instead of the usual hearing him."

Mom replies from the kitchen, "Thank you honey."

I send a text to dad asking if he is free, and when he texts back he's got time, I ask him to come online to chat on Skype. And when he does we talk to each other a little before I turn the video chat on. And I get to see him after a year. He looks like a paradox, if that makes sense.

Like a man who is happy and decaying simultaneously. Like the tiny little plants that mom placed on the windowsill once and even though their leaves turned to face the sun that they craved, they wilted in the process. A happy plant wilting away in the sun.