My parents.

My parents.

I can tell my parents are not getting along well. I can see that their wedding photo on the wall is no where to be seen. They sleep separately now, my dad sleeps on the mattress on the floor. They talk awkwardly. I can tell. They don’t communicate. I sorta see this coming. Subconsciously I put myself away from my own home and study oversea because I know I couldn’t stand them at all. Home is now foreign to me.

I find dread, foreseeing my little nephew living in a home that is not warm. I can tell my elder brother is not ready to be a dad at all. But I can see that all of them love my nephew dearly. But as he grows up and understands more, I am scared that he will see the world is not as pretty as he might thinks. And I’m not too sure what to do about it.

My mother just rented a house two floors above mine for my grandma. I think somehow, it gives her extra reason to live upstairs so that she won’t need to stay in the same room as my dad.

Anything can happen when I’m in absence. But when things deteriorate and there is nothing I can do about it, it breaks me, drives me crazy, paralyzing me. I don’t know what to do. The feelings of wanting to amend things but helpless.

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