This night is way too similar to one four and a half years ago filled with flashing red lights circling the house and broken tea cups and distant family members who's lives you wouldn't mind taking with your own hand. Don't people understand that if they were once not there for someone at a time of need they cannot just return into that person's life years later expecting to start over on a blank slate? Even more, they cannot do so on a second try, this whole second chance thing makes the situation even more frustrating.
Age has always been an issue to me. I don't understand who created this whole theory where people are judged by the number of seasons they've lived through, it's always been burning at the tip of my tongue. Maybe I am just speaking from a teenager's perspective, but I've heard enough boomers speak of it. How can a woman that spent her whole 50 year old life sawing pictures of flowers and never worked a day in her life be considered of higher social standing than a twenty-one year old university graduate? The university graduate has lived through multiple losses and has been in love, while the old maid with a divorce has never attended a funeral? How can this woman raise a hand or ever open her mouth to try and make the girl clean up all the broken tea-cups?
So what can save an insane person if a psychologist cant? Love? Sobriety? Books? I think being alone far far away might.
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