He looks awful.
Must have aged another ten years in a hurry.
“How is mom?"
"She is keeping busy."
They had a big picture made of me for the living room.
“You don’t look so good.”
“It’s the sleep but I’m ok.”
Not sure if I can trust this.
“Are you in any trouble?”
“THEY sent some people.”
“Where? What is going on?”
Turns out they tried to talk him into abandoning me.
Must have been a tough fight both at work and at home.
“There is no way in the world that they would succeed son!”
“I know dad!”
“I might change jobs.”
“I’m so sorry for this dad!”
“Don’t be! It wakes us too you know?!”
Still, I don’t like his underlying sadness.
He seems exhausted, devastated, crushed.
“Look: they’ll charge me next month and this phase will be over.”
It is hard to convince him that we just have to go along and be strong.
He wants to be I know but there is something dark and painful about him.
“There must be something else dad!”
“It’s fine, really.”
“I love you!”
It’s a fucked-up night.
The stupid light wakes me all 15 minutes.
I can’t get my dad’s sad face out of my head.