A Conversation To Forget

Well, I'm back in San Marcos. Trust me, this wasn't by choice. I kind of had to come back. All I can say is my apartment is pretty cool, and my first night back wasn't too bad. It was actually kinda fun. But I can't wait for Laine to get back.

The weird thing, though, is probably the things that are on my mind. My mother and I had a conversation the day before I came back (Thursday) when we were driving around Corpus. I didn't mean to bring it up, it kind of just happened. But I instantly regretted opening my mouth. You might be thinking,'oh, she got the sex talk again, huh?'. Nope. Worse. It was about my father. 

I suppose I should explain. My father is a recovering alcoholic. It'll be ten years on September 11 this year that he's been sober. The thing is, I don't remember his drinking. In fact, I don't remember anything. The first ten years of my life are a blur, spotted with memories of faces and a couple of my worst 'Leah, what the HELL did you do?!' moments. So when I try to think about it, I honestly pull a blank. But my mother started to talk about in a completely different way than she usually did. She started giving me details of the past, things that I didn't know...or rather, don't remember. And some of it I really wish she hadn't told me, I could have done without that in my head. But the worst part was that she talked about the one thing I thought I vividly remembered, the day he stopped drinking. You see, I remember it happening all in one day, the towers falling, coming home, getting that phone call, hearing my father's voice from jail, and him coming home that afternoon after my grandfather bailed him out (my mother refused to). But apparently, that's not how it happened. He was in jail for two days before he was bailed out. Two! And I honestly look back and can't find that anywhere in my mind. I thought I knew it so well. Part of me is sincerely scared that my mind is that good at blocking it out. The other part of me is glad. Because if I was upset in the memories I do have, I don't want to think about how I was for two days.

I feel like my eyes have been opened, whether I like it or not.