The Thief

"Guy, c'mon man, lets go!!!"
"Hold on!!! I need to tell them something. Go on, I'll catch up."

  And so I would sit in Corey's kitchen, and just talk with his mom while she did dishes, made dinner, whatever it may be. I speak to her to this day, and she reminded me of this. I had completely forgotten about it, but remembered it well when told. And I was able to see it in every relationship I ever had growing up. My home, was either a graveyard with hands constantly trying to poke their hands out and pull me under, or a war-zone. Like walking blindfolded across a firing line. No one, including myself wanted to be there. A few very close friends would brave it to come over and spend the night, whenever I wasn't allowed out. But for everyone who lived there, sleep, shower, eat, and get out.

  My friends families intrigued me. I was completely astonished at how things worked. And I always felt like the intruder. Not to the house necessarily, but to the HOME. First off, the idea of two parents astonished me. Having lost my mom at 13 months old, I was already less than. All my friends had more than me, and it happened to be something I so desperately wanted. Going on outings with their families about made me cry every time. So many times I would wish that this was MINE, and I was able to totally ignore my situation, and act as if. Even going to Blockbuster, I instinctually would fall to the back, and watch.Watch them walk side by side, mom and dad helping pick out movies, games, the excitement when a friend found something they really, really wanted and running up to show their parents...And either one of two things would happen. Either I would stay back and watch, and start throwing wood on the fire, my anger, or, I would put myself out of my life, and into theirs and join in.  I am forever grateful for these times. Their love and hearts they openly shared, most even introducing me as their other son. Without these people, I really would hate to see what would've became of me, because these were my only examples of love. Family love.Here I was, stealing any attention and love from them, and they always had more for me. I still to this day thank God for the people I had early on that showed me what I couldn't see.

  When staying the night at friends' houses, at night when everyone was asleep I'd wander around. I'd lounge around, kick back and put my feet on the sofa's, even just walk from room to room, pretending it was my house. A house where I was safe. Where the heartache was not welcome, and people made a deal about me walking in the door from school. A mom and dad making dinner together, sitting to watch a movie, anything. Anything without FEAR. At my house, when I got home from school, I quickly did any homework (if I even did it) and made sure I was gone before dad got home from work. Normally however, he never came home until 8 - 9:00 from the bar. So, I washed my clothes, made some form of dinner, and was in my room by then usually pretending to be asleep when the front door opened. I rarely fell asleep until around midnight, my thoughts and fear wouldn't allow it. And hearing dad shuffle around, yelling on the phone, or even crying to himself, kept my thoughts on what was going on in my friends' houses, whether or not mom came in to kiss them goodnight. Somedays I was only able to make it through by what 'normalcy' I was able to keep from my friends, but I always felt like an intruder, a thief.....