Loving You Differently

Thirty Four

I did know.

I couldn't help but reluctantly agree with her. I felt crazy, like my every move was being scrutinized. Kind of ironic that Dad is the reason for it, all things considering.

Savannah plops down into a chair at the table and I mirror her actions, bringing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

"Remember when we were kids and he went on that weekend long bender?" She asks.

I smirk wryly. "Which one?"

She cracks a small smile at that. "The one where he locked himself in the bathroom, convinced that he was in a stand-off with the FBI."

I can't help but let a laugh burst free. "Oh shit, yeah. Didn't Mom have to open the door with a butter knife after he stopped responding?"

"Yeah, because he fell asleep in the bathtub with the shower rod held to his chest like a weapon. God, she was a mess that weekend. Slept outside the bathroom door and would slip saltine crackers underneath it. She was extra mean too, snapping at us when we couldn't figure out how to get the door open with an expired Blockbuster gift card," She says, staring aimlessly at the wall.

"Yeah. Felt like the only time she interacted with us was when we pissed her off because we wanted attention," I say.

Savannah laughs. "But it was always on Mark. And his attention was always on the drugs. Parents of the year, right?"

A short silence falls, the two of us lost in our thoughts. Something Austin said comes to me, his experience with his mom's opioid addiction and how he forgave her, even when she wasn't the parent he needed for a short time. And then, I realize that he forgave his father too, even if no apology had been made, or necessary given the circumstances. It leaves me wondering if I could do the same.

I blurt out, "Do you ever think you could forgive them? You know, for all the shit they did? Or.. didn't do, I guess."

Savannah ponders it over. "I guess I already have. They weren't good parents. I know that, you know that, they know that. And yeah it affected me, but what's done is done. I've made peace with that fact and know that I can move on and be fine with or without them in my life. They're the ones who will always have a guilty conscience, knowing they could have and should have done more. But that's on them."

I blink, stunned. I'd never thought of it like that. My little sister, wise beyond her years, I tell you.

And clearly more mentally stable after the lifelong trauma we both endured compared to yours truly.

"Why?" She asks. "Would you?"

I think about it. "I don't know," I conclude. "I want to. But I don't know if I can."

"Because we'll never get an apology?"

My chest actually aches at her words, throbbing painfully at the crushing realization.

"Yeah."

"Forgiveness isn't deserved just because they're our parents, Aria. And honestly? They don't deserve it. But you do, whether you believe it or not."

——

I should have known better than to believe that my mother would follow through.