Gangsta Mittens
Words combined to express thoughts. Pictures displayed to convey emotion. Opening my brain to the world.

When I first started plotting to escape DC for another summer, my dad was sick. Sick like he needed help to get around… sick like he needed to take medication… He’s past that now… i mean he’s sicker than that. Unable to eat, speak, walk, open his eyes… and here I am, thousands of miles away. Checking in every hour or so… trying not to be a burden on my mom… trying not to drive myself crazy. Trying to just keep pushing thru like he would want me to. But it’s hard. It’s hard being so far away. It’s hard knowing that “the call” could come at any minute. It’s hard hurting and feeling so isolated. And it’s tiring… and frustrating… and confusing.. and everything else. But mostly it’s just hard. Sometimes I don’t wanna be strong. Sometimes I just wanna cry… and let it out. But I don’t have that option. I mean i do… but i really don’t.

I’m rambling… I don’t really even know how to say all that I want to say. I’m living a life full of regrets and there doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of that tunnel. Just more regrets. I look at my dad and my mom and their lives and the sacrifices they made for us… and the joy it brought them… and i’m thankful… and grateful… so grateful. I had so much I wanted to do and show my dad… so many things that I wanted him to know that he wouldn’t have to worry about… but… regrets. I’m tired of regrets. I’m tired of being at the mercy of someone else. Tired of living my life on someone else’s terms. Tired of feeling like a hassle…a burden… and all that other stuff. Just really really tired… It’s hard yo… for real.