Tuesday, September 30, 2008
“Skip is MIA,” He says to me on the phone, “Perhaps tomorrow I’ll see him and I’m sure he’ll give you a call.”

Skip is my brother’s father. He’s the man who raised me from the time I was 2, until I turned 12 or 13. He is an alcoholic, and that’s an understatement. If it’s there, Skip is willing to take it, whether it’s a drink, a pill, a needle, or a pipe. In his mid fifties, he’s already had a number of strokes and most recently there was a black, potentially cancerous spot found on his lung. None of it changes him. And under it all, the man has a heart of gold. He spent the majority of my first few months back here, apologizing and asking me for forgiveness for the childhood he allowed me to have. I had forgiven him before he even asked.

So it came as a shock that when the boy Skip initially introduced me to, threw me out so suddenly, Skip took his side over mine; refusing to talk to me. I literally told Skip to fuck right off and swore he wouldn’t hear from me until he was willing to offer an apology. Last week he mentioned me to a few friends. He said he’d tried to call but I’d changed my number, and asked them to have me call him. I tried, three times with no response.

So yesterday I wasn’t shocked to hear he was missing. It’s not abnormal for Skip to go missing for a few days in a row. I was shocked after that call when I spoke to my father and he said he’d seen my mom pissed drunk before noon, sitting outside the house with some guy and a case of beer. The guy he described could have been none other than Skip himself. Looks like my mom’s taking a step back more than 15 years in time. Just when you think things can’t get worse, there seems to be away.

Don’t get me wrong, I love both Skip and my mom. I hate the idea of them getting back together. My mom has been so much better than this for so many years it hurts to see her heading right back there now.

Other than this, life seems to be moving smoothly for me. I got myself a kitten and named him TwoSix. He’s a pain in the ass, but I love him just the same. It’s getting fucking cold here, and it’ll be nice for me to come home after work to warm house with a little one waiting for me. I have a second cat on the way. My niece’s cat had kittens a while back, and I’d already claimed mine when I took in TwoSix from some strange man standing outside the supermarket, threatening to leave him on the streets if I didn’t take him home. Soon, I’ll have a happy little family in my doll house.

May you all have a wonderful Eid.

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No matter where I am, I'm lost and learning to like it. I'm a living contradiction, and the best lies I tell are the ones I tell myself.
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