"I can feel you all around me.
Thickening the air I'm breathing
Holding onto what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing."
-Flyleaf-

So, I was reading this other entry by the only friend I have on here when it hit me how close we were in alikeness when it came to one of our parents. It made me want to write about it. To get it out. I haven't talked or wrote about my mom in years now and it's absolutely tearing me apart on the inside to keep it all in, so it's time to talk about it.  About, I say about because the exact day is kinda blurry-I've blocked so much of it out that I don't seem to remember things anymore-my mom left. I say left, because that's exactly what she did. My parents, whom I thought loved each other, got divorced, and she left. She moved to Oregon which is miles from here, and started a new life. One that didn't exactly involve her three children. What kind of mother just gets up and decides to leave her children? She started completely over. She got remarried, had another baby, and for awhile there she didn't even worry about how we were doing. Sure, we'd fly up there over the summers to spend time with her, but she wasn't all there. Her life was something totally different than us.  Plus, to me she had changed. Or maybe I was just so mad at her that I completely forgot that she was my mom and she had become an enemy. I was so mad that it was hard for me to control sometimes, so I took it out on my dad. My poor dad. All he did was try to make us happy. He gave me anything I could ever ask for and all I did was stomp on him. Not just once, but repeatedly. I would stay out all hours of the night. My favorite thing to do was get really drunk and then come home. Or throw a party when he was out of town, coaching.  My dad was teacher and I can't even begin to imagine how much it hurt him to hear some of my classmates talk about how big of a partier I was. I know it devastated him, but at that time I didn't care. Now? Now, I live with this huge guilt over me about all the shit I put him through.  I'm surprised he didn't just disown me at the time. Now don't get me wrong, I feel really bad about what I did to me dad, actually the word bad isn't a good enough word for it, but I don't regret it. I had so much fun as I grew up that I wish I could hold onto all those memories forever. Which I'm pretty sure I will. Now, my mom has actually apologized for what she put us through and I forgive her, but I can't seem to forget it. To this day, I personally don't think she calls us enough or comes and sees us enough, but that's just my oponion. My dad on the other hand has forgiven me for all the shit I put him through, but will I ever let go of this guilt?