Love is watching my mother fade away, helpless to stop it. Love is my father promising to take care of me, only to leave bruises instead. Love is wreckage—of cars, of trust, of every fragile hope I dared to hold. Love is my dad giving up his dreams to support my mom and me when I was a surprise to them both, only for him to resent me for it later. So, yeah, maybe I see myself as a burden, but that’s because every person I’ve ever loved has left me broken into a million tiny pieces.
Dude this is so sad 😭
