One day I had been sitting on the porch with my mom as the sun set.
We didn’t have any chairs so we sat on the rough wooden boards.
She hadn’t had a drink yet and I was thankful, it wasn’t often she got this far into the day and stayed sober.
We sat so close together that our knees brushed each other, that we shared the same air.
“Mom,” I said and cleared my throat, “where’s dad?” I hadn’t seen him since last Tuesday
A frown played onto her face and I deflated.
“He’s gone, sweetie,” she said and grabbed my hand. “He was unhappy with me.”
The news didn’t shock me, I had known that he had been sad for years and part of me had wished for my parents to get a divorce, but I hadn’t thought that he would just leave.
In all the fantasies that had played in my head I had gone with him. Maybe he was dissatisfied with his drunken wife but the thoughts bubbled into my head that if he had only wanted to get away from her, why would he leave me behind?
I had no disillusions as to what the answer to that question was though.
I had told him I was gay two days before he left.
I held my mom’s hand tighter.