I cannot cry, because I know that’s weakness in your eyes. I wish it wasn’t. I wish you could see the hurt you cause me, the pain. But you can’t. So I lift up my chin, smile like a good girl, and carry on with my life. That’s what you want to see. Even when what I have to hear is so incredibly ugly.

“Jeff! What on earth were you thinking, letting the kids do that?”
“I don’t know…honey…I…”
“She’s doing what?!”
“She’s just using the computer.”
“Oh, my god! Oh my god! I don’t even know what to say to you!”
“Yeah? How about why there’s exactly two thousand dollars worth of merchandise on my credit card from the jewelry store?”
“Well, if you’re never home, what should I do?”

On and on. Hours and hours. And, inevitably, it always managed to come back to me.

“I can’t believe you’re letting Erika spend time with those kids! It’s repulsive! And you know her grades are terrible!”
“Yeah? And you’re such a great father?”

I wish they would both stop. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I just need to get away…