Tell me what it means to be a family. Tell me about dinners around the table and christmas cards. Tell me about how on Sunday morning you’ll all pile into the car and go to church together. Tell me about how your parents bought your car. Tell me about how your mom writes a check for lunch money. Tell me about New Year's parties. Tell me about summer camping trips and barbecues. Tell me about how bright the stars shine from grandma’s house. Tell me about grocery lists and chores. Tell me about your normal lives with your normal houses and your normal cars. Tell me that someday my kids will go to school and be as normal as you. Tell me that someday my future will look like yours.Tell me about knowing how to be happy. Tell me about having money. Tell me about having parents who went to college. Tell me about about never having a reason to cry or feel alone. Tell me about hope.
Cause I can’t.
What I can tell you is why I’m terrified of alcohol. I can tell you about late nights crying in my room as my parents screamed at each other. I can tell you about Christmases with no gifts. I can tell you about sitting in a room surrounded by a language that felt heavy and full of danger despite that fact I’ve spoken it all my life. I can tell you about choking on the smell of cigarettes. I can tell you about red eyes and the scent of skunk. I can tell you about being terrified to cry because if I don’t stop crying then I’ll be given something to cry about. I can tell you about dark closets. I can tell you about the look of disgust in my father's eyes because I like girls too sometimes. I can tell you about how the police know my face but I don’t exist on record because my sister and I look very similar. I can tell you about my family’s inability to commit to anything. I can tell you about letting everything build up to the point that I’m crying in my bedroom alone because I don’t know the answer to a question on my college application and it’s 3 am.
I can also tell you about how much patience my friends have for me. About how I always have someone to call at 3 am to figure out when the heck I’m supposed to graduate. About how having someone tell you they love you and finally feeling comfortable to know that they’re not lying to you. About having friends who are honest enough to tell you to stop acting like a 13 year old girl, put on your big girl pants and be happy. About how amazing it felt to realize after 17 years that I am allowed to be happy, even when others aren’t. About a group of friends that always have a hug and kinds words ready. About a love that makes me wonder how I lived without knowing it exists. About how it took ten years but I’ve finally found the light at the end of the tunnel.
So tell me of a life where everything is perfect and mom and dad still love each other...or maybe not. Maybe I’ll live on to see that perfect life and I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise. Maybe, just maybe I’ll find that I’m already living my perfect life. That’d be a fun surprise.