Running Away.

Last night was a tearful, putrid evening. I spent the whole day cleaning a mess that was not mine, in preperation for the return of my step mother and step sister. Around 9 o'clock I got in an argument with my dad via cell phone. After being told flat out that I am "not moving out" (a pending topic we had yet to discuss) and blown off because he was "getting a text message" (wtffff!?), I decided that I was tired of being completely ignored and insufficiantly parented by that man and his wife. I broke down into tears, fell to the kitchen floor, slammed all the cupboards as hard as I could and screamed at the top of my damaged lungs. This almost psychotic episode lasted for about five minutes when I got up, grabbed my phone off the counter, walked outside, called my mama and told her I needed to leave and she agreed that I need to do what's best for me. I scurried to throw all of my clothes in white trash bags and load them into my car. Hanz, my guitar came with and my stuffed animal Fluffy the St. Bernard that i've had since age two followed. I wrote my dad a brief letter explaining why all my shit is no longer in my room and then I left. I'd call it moving out rather than running away but "Running Away." seemed like a better title and in my dad's eyes that's exactly what I'm doing. The half hour drive to my mother's was a dificult one with tears streaming down my face, making phonecalls to those I felt I needed to speak to. I discovered that there really are good people in the world. Good friends, and good men. Well, I can't speak for the rest of the world but there is at least one good man. Isaac, thank you. I ended my night on a sophisticated note; watching an Andrea Bocelli concert on PBS, eating Starbucks Java Chip ice cream which does not infact taste like a Java Chip Frappucino but is till quite enjoyable. Here comes life ladies and gentlemen.