How does one fight starch negativity? Abrasion so callous it digs in deeply, without even intending to be so cruel? How does one make do with feeling uncomfortable in their own shoes? Afraid to stand still and afraid to move? How does one interpret indifference when effort has been put forth to gain love and respect? Sometimes, one deals by succumbing to it. It doesn't happen easily, it takes a good amount of time, usually. It starts when hopelessness begins to make its home in the gut, with a never-ending clip of cold-shouldered numbness every time one comes home. The darkness is much easier to live in than the light. The anger, the brooding sense of needing approval, once light and sweet now become sour and incomplete, because a complete anger is not possible in some. It's abnormal behavior, and it takes much pain and suffering to be won. It's trying to fight for your sanity and dear life on a daily basis, trying to not make others feel unwelcome, yet wanting it to be known that dissatisfaction has come to call your soul home. One can go on and on and on and on. The same words trying to convey the same sense of hellish hopelessness, a soul and ego resorting to the painful notch of anti-tranquility that creeps into the head, right into the stress and joy centers. Can I have the man and not the mother? Soon, she will move and once again I'll be able to be another, the original, non-convoluted, full of kindness and warmth once again. Soon, the mother will move out and I will marry the man.