not my own

It's this time of year that it hits me harder than any other. It's now when I remember how it used to be, when it seems like it was a million years ago. It's now that I find myself wishing I had a childhood again, wishing what happened, never would have. It was that year that my life changed, that year that the family I'd always known and loved changed, forever. I wish I would have fought it harder, I wish I would have told him the hurt he caused me face to face. I wish I would have let him see what he was doing, because caught up in the moment, he had no idea what he was doing to us, to me. His only daughter, his eldest child lost her childhood that year. It was in that one decision, that the family that had always been so close, seperated so far away, never put back together again.

And while it's how many years ago now, this time of year, I want the family I always had. I want the family that I grew up with, (they're so so different now). Nothing is ever the same as you grow up, but at least most get to go home to where they grew up for the holidays, see their families where nothing has changed, see their friends. I go home to nothing but a foreign house in a strange city to a family that is not my own anymore.