And I almost had you,651Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIL9YQrNHSa
But I guess that didn't cut it, 651Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwekHaUC7su
I almost loved you, 651Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzXvxIknoUN
I almost wish you would have loved me too. 651Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtqCRe2gEMi
-"Almost", Bowling for Soup
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In a way, it all makes sense, to be honest. You live, as a child, in a world of promise and hope, with your ordinary heroes constantly telling you that , "you can do anything and change the world because you have the potential". Then, of course, you grow up and watch your heroes become humans, and your dreams turn into something that is only found when you're sleeping. It makes sense that my father wouldn't be the angelic and all-seeing hero that I made him out to be as a child. Then it shouldn't hurt as bad as it does, but even knowing that he wasn't that great of a person doesn't lessen the grief in the slightest.
It also makes sense that Mother would run to Jason after discovering the letter. She wanted to know more, of course, as we all do. My father promised that Jason could tell her more about him and his circumstances of dying, so she went to get to know Jason. Perhaps she got to know him far too well, because here we are. And, of course Jason doesn't like me. He's always telling me of how my mannerisms are like that of my father's. Every time he looks at or speaks to me, he sees my father. I would hate me too.
Even still, I hate him just as much as I suppose he hates me. It is understandable. That's another part of growing up, as well. You watch your heroes become humans, but you watch your enemies become ordinary and understandable as well. There are no actual villains, no real arch-enemies. They're all people with understandable motives and reasonable actions, even if their motives and reasons don't match your personal motives. I was growing up quickly, it seems. In the span of a few hours I have become more broken, more confused, and more enlightened than all of my entire life combined. (Scratch that, you do learn quite a bit as an infant, but learning to not crap my pants is more of a necessity than an epiphany.)
I forced myself to stand from my place at the marsh outside. It was already too late to be able to read, so being outside didn't make much of a difference. The usually wet grass in the marshy field had dried a little since the day, so the tread back to my house was more comfortable than the walk away from it. The front door was locked, so I struggled my way up the tree that lied near my roof, and rested on a branch for a few (Maybe more than a few, though I don't like to admit it) minutes before hopping my way onto the roof. It creaked, and gave a slight bit, but I didn't fall through the shingle, which was always a good thing. If I hadn't started running a few months back, I more than likely would have fallen through, if I was even able to make it up the tree. Being unfit sucks..
I cautiously lumbered my way over to the latched window of our upstairs bathroom, and forced the lock open. You just had to twist it a certain way with a certain amount of force, and it would open. Perfect for night time murderers, burglars, or myself. I made sure to close it when I dropped into the bathroom, so that my mother and Jason wouldn't be angrier than they already were. I ran my fingertips through my hair, where the ends growing in met my scalp, and I took a deep breath. It was certainly time for some answers, and I intended to get them if I had to force them out.
Of course, I had wanted answers for about seven years now, but I hadn't had the slightest clue of whom I should go to and I had an even smaller idea of what I should be asking. This time, it was different. I had everything under control, and I was actually fairly excited. All I could feel was a sense of relief, a sense that I was done, and that nothing else matters. With my newly found excitement, I had forgotten my golden rule of living with grief and confusion: Don't ever be to sure of yourself. There are many things I could have done, and should have done, but this was my fatal mistake.
Because now I felt even worse than before, to come so close and then fall so short, back to square one. Maybe not exactly square one, because I still had the letter, but close enough to square one that I wanted to die right then.
I was so close. I was so very, very close. I was right there, about to cross the finish line, but I stumbled and fell flat on my face on the last step.
Jason had left, without a single trace to his whereabouts, and I still had no answers.
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