The cold breeze rustled the sheer curtains covering my window, carrying in the smell of rain. The smell of spring. Damp and musty, you can feel the earth soak it in, as if parched after the long winter. I stand at the window for a moment, overlooking my almost complete neighborhood - I am happy here. I turn off the music that would usually accompany me to sleep and leave checking my e-mail until the morning. All lights turned off, I crawl into my cool bed and lie in the dark, listening to the sweet song of rain. The roof of a car, the aluminum eavesdrop, the pile of wood at the curb, are natures instruments creating a beat so peaceful, I struggle to stay awake and listen.
Lying there, I think of all the amazing people in my life, and how these last couple of weeks I have been ecstatic! Being someone who finds it very easy to pick out my personal flaws and then beat myself over them, or remind myself of past occurences that I will never stop feeling guilt over, it has never been easy to truly feel happy. And although I can still see those flaws, still feel the guilt, I push them aside and have decided it best to enjoy life now, and worry about the negatives later. Of course, knowing me, something will happen within the next 48 hours causing me to completely change my current outlook...but if I can enjoy today, enjoy how I feel now, then the rest just doens't seem all that bad.

I stood at my window, looking at nothing in particular, wondering "Why does it have to be this way?" Dad has just come home from being at the cottage after deciding not to take part in our annual Good Friday festivities. Down the stairs, the replay button has been pressed on my parents favorite argument -if my life were a musical, this would be the main chorus. It is hard carrying the feelings that I do towards my father - I completely disapprove of everything he represents, yet at the same time, my greatest fear is for him to leave me forever. I hold my breath each time something upsets him, praying that it won't be what packs his bags. I am twenty years old and yet think that if I am on my best behavior, everything will be o.k.

Despite the everyday drama, the rest of my weekend was FABULOUS! Saturday night was filled with loud music, flashing lights, loads of drinks and great friends. After multiple cancelations, Sara and I finally made it our to the bar together, and I hope that it isn't nearly as long a wait until the next time we get downtown. Last night was again, full of old friends. While a small group of us huddled together in the cold stands of the arena, the rest playfully harassed each other on the ice. As we caught up on each other's lives, I couldn't help but smile. Looking around, I took it all in and appreciated our bond just a little bit more. Some of these faces, I knew, would be sitting at my wedding, and I theirs. We are a family - high disfunctional, yes - but none the less, a family, and no matter where we all are in life, we will always be there for each other. It is the most comforting feeling I have ever experienced. I love my frenchies. :)

my family is slowly unravelling at the seams. after having a great night out with some old friends, i get home to find out my father has been ranting about nonesense again...this time coming to the conclusion that he no longer wants any part of our lives. obviously, nobody's life is perfect, and parents do split up. for the most part, i think i'm actually more surprised (and thankful!) that my parents have stayed together as long as they have. you see, my dad is an alcoholic; a crazy drunk. not including the aggravations my mum experienced before my siblings and i were born, we have had some pretty rough years dealing with his disease. through it all there were many, what seemed at the time, threats that he would pack up and leave. i will forever remember one in specific. i was four, my brother only two....my dad came in to our rooms late into the night...or maybe it was early in the morning...and asked us if we wanted to go for a car ride. wanting only to spend time with my dad, and even at such a young age, understand why he was so sad, we got into the car bundled in our pj's and blankies. slowly drifting in out of sleep, the three of us drove around the streets of scarborough snuggled in to the front seat of my dad's prized crown vic. it was no until i had heard my father crying, that i realized we had stopped. crawling into his lap, i whispered it was time to go home. we sat together for a while, but eventually returned home and were tucked in tight.
that was the first, and last time i recall my dad ever leaving...or attempting to anyways. he is a man who rarely shares his thoughts or worries. he has so much bouncing off the walls of his brain, i often wonder how he hasn't simply drove himself nuts. for him, i think that the drink is his escape, or attempt to escape what is on his mind. there is no excuse, of course, for his actions. although he has never layed a hand on any of us, there are words that have been said, promises broken that have forever scarred my easily bruised heart. i want to love him with out any reservations, but trying to understand him, his disease, his thought process sometimes makes me crazier than he is at his worst.
my mum confided in me with this new information. after all the kids had left, he dropped his "decision" like a ticking bomb into her lap. apparently, he has said many things along these same lines in the past...and my mum feels he is just trying to clear his head of what he knows is nonesense. she has a thick skin my mum...she's been through alot, and i love her to death for what she has put up with over the past 25 years, just so her kids would have a 'whole' home. i would do anything to protect her, from any challenge or confrontation. she doesn't need to fight anymore.
as much as i detest my father, i never want him to leave. i love him...he is my daddy. there are two forms of loss...losing a parent through divorce, or losing them through death. because of the wedge that is constantly being shoved between us, losing my father to divorce, or seperation, would be torture. on his own, the disease would only progress, pushing me further away. knowing he was out there, but that i never saw him would kill me slowly from the inside out.
i have to keep my happy face on....keep a strong front for my mum...my brother...my sister. for someone who doesn't have much faith in the man upstairs, i am praying we make it through this.