I've lost a few people in my seventeen years of life. Two grandparents, a cousin, an uncle, and several pets. Although, they've never hurt as bad as when I lost someone that's still living. I got checked out of school today during third period because my stomach was upset. Instead of going to my aunt's house like I had last week, I went to my mother's. It has been months since I last spoke to her. I'd forgotten how nice she was before she started drinking for the night. Tonight, even after she had started to drink, she was still nice to me. I can't remember the last time that I was happy to be there.
As I stood in my once room tonight collecting my old stereo, a skirt I liked, my old photo album, and some odd fake lashes, I realized that I missed it there. It had been a while since I had wanted to be there. I had wished that my bed was still there and that it wasn't turning into a storage room of sorts. I missed being around my mother and having dinner with her and my step-father. I find it sad how I can't go back until her alcoholism stops. I don't want to deal with it anymore. I was tired of the fighting when I moved out and I still am but some part of me just wants to go back and stay there for a while. I don't know why.
