My brother is moving out in a month. Moving in with his tiny girl friend. Tiny woman, big mouth.
I say that with affection, of course. She's one of the few people I like.
I feel like I'm being called to hold the door open while my little brother escapes. I call the place where we live the Suffering Mansion - only somewhat in jest. Everyone is insane, here. Stepping through that door is like stepping through space and time, into an alternate universe where everyone is racist, sexist and never has anything good to say.
It wears on you, after a while.
College. That's what I do now. College. 3 years clean. I don't write anymore. Not really.