Mum chose to marry an unfathomably sad and distraught man, who would eventually turn her into a basket case of leaky tears and stressed frizzy hair.
Dad didn’t do it deliberately. I love him, I guess. But if you’d seen Mum on her good days, when Dad’s not around, you’d hate him a bit too. Because she’s gorgeous. She dances sunlight into the morning radio. Her smile inspires me to keep trying, and her energy convinces me I can.
Positivity attracts negativity, my science teacher explained. Action causes reaction. I don’t see the difference between physics like that and suicide.
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