goodbyes.

i don’t know how to explain why i did what i did. but i can give one example that might shed some light to it. when i was packing my things to leave, my dad was banging on my locked door, threatening to break it down, not to convince or beg me to stay, but because i was using a duffel bag of his. and when i opened the door he threw a trash bag in my face and told me to use that instead, and him and my mom stood there filming me as i was sobbing and when i left, the only thing i had to my name was money i had to keep hidden from them, a car they tried to do everything in their power to prevent me from having, and a backseat filled with trashbags. all in an instant i went from the top of the social class to the bottom, and i’d never felt more like the scum of the earth. i never got begged to stay, and they never told me they loved me. my dads last words as i hauled my trashbags into wrens car were “fuck you”, and that was that. i got a text from them a few days later accusing me of not thinking clearly. it was always that. they were referring to me as mushy megan to my siblings. funny thing is, i’d never had more of a clear head then i did in those very first months.