The Dangerous Art of Blending In

by Angelo Surmelis

I see my dad about once a week. I haven’t seen my mother since I left. I know it’s going to sound odd, but I miss my family. Not my actual family, but the idea of what my family could have been. I wonder sometimes what would have happened, where we’d be, if just one thing were different—if somehow one of the bad things that took place never existed. Would that have made a difference? Would we still be together?