You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I will rise.

14.9.11

Everytime You Lie

     When I was young, I knew everything my parents thought I didn't know. I knew where my mother hid my Christmas gift; the one Santa was supposed to bring me personally. I knew the Tooth Fairy didn't exist. I knew what sex was and how it was done. I knew every curse word and used it at school almost effortlessly. I knew what my parents were talking about when they'd whisper or sign language to each other from across the room. I knew that parents usually slept together in the same room and showed affection towards one another despite being in front of their kids. I knew that there was something wrong with my dad sleeping on the couch and my mom sleeping in her bedroom. I knew referring to the bedroom as "hers" was wrong too. I knew that we had money issues. I knew a lot and I'm sure tons more if I thought hard enough. The one that impacted me the most is that I knew my father smoked. I knew that "I have to get something in the car," actually meant, "I'm going out for a smoke." I knew that the garage, the place he locked himself in almost every night, was his smoking hot spot. I knew that the stink he filled the house with wasn't anything but cigarette smell. I knew he thought I was stupid. I knew he convinced himself I'd never find out. I knew that he was a fucking idiot because after roughly nine years, he still thinks I don't know. He still uses the same damn excuse. And he still doesn't understand that he smells absolutely fucking disgusting when coming in from the garage.
     I never confronted this problem because I was young, scared and worried about what would happen. I regret it because too many years have gone by without anything being said. Funny how Andrew figured it out now. I'm proud of him because despite being young, scared and worried about what would happen, he went for it anyway and asked my father the question that I never built up the courage to say. My father still refuses it though. The container of cigarettes in the garage is for display I guess. Yeah, that must be it. Let's all keep avoiding the truth.

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