Family

We launch our words into the space between us like sparks onto a pile of dry leaves and twigs - something dangerous is bound to happen. In stubbornness we clench our jaws and scrunch our brows - we will not give in. This is a fight for the books, and we abandon all reservations as we throw ourselves into the heat of it. Steamy tears race across my face and his sarcasm slices through the room like razor blades. There will be casualties. Bruised feelings and bloodied pride are inevitable.

I make my exit flushed and clumsy, channeling my inner teenager as I slam the door behind me. Once in the car I drive aimlessly, for I have nowhere to go. The goal is to be anywhere but there, where his stripped state of being is glaringly ugly and hateful… and mine is even worse.

In a random parking lot I blow smoke in straight streams into the night; the wind thrashes through the trees and turns my hair into whips that sting my cheeks. The sounds of suburban traffic drone on in the background as I begin the process of taking myself in hand. Eventually I cease to shake, the pink escapes my cheeks, and the cool wind dries my tears.

Ten minutes later I stand outside his door, hesitating ever so slightly, because humility always hurts. I knock and hand him a pack of gum as a peace offering. He takes it and responds with a love kick in the shin. We’re off to a good start. Low tones and earnest words later, we meet in the middle.

He brings me ice cream at 1:00am, and we say goodnight by moon. Not the kind that hangs in the sky, but the kind that’s hairy with two cheeks.

This is family.