my mother boarded the bus, after tossing her overloaded bag in the compartment below. i watched her leave and felt nothing.
at this point, we had been living together for a few months. my father was back in town, so she re-appeared, latching on, attempting to keep the family together. he'd show for a few days then disappear for another week with no contact; she'd be in and out of touch with him, waiting for some reassurance. while she stayed with me, she'd leave for hours, or even days at a time, and i knew she was crashing with him in some heroin den, blocking out sunlight and reality with every hit.
after three months of this behavior, i attempted an intervention, but on my own it was close to impossible. i thought, after watching the tv show of the same name, that i had the right words to say, but she was past my help. after countless rejections, i told her she had to leave my house; her actions were far too destructive and painful for me to bear.
that's what brought us to this bus station today. i'm not even sure who roy is, honestly. i think it's her drug dealer in seattle. i can't care anymore.
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