Love & Ruins (#2)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five: Maggie

Finding a good quality hotel to stay in was easy, getting out of that damned house and penetrating through Clarice's resolute persistence to make sure I hadn't escaped was the difficult part.

I must admit, I feel bad because chances are my father is going to somehow find a way to shift the blame on Clarice for letting me walk out of his home with the entirety of my bedroom with me, but what was needed had to be done and I just hope he won't try to make it seem like it was her fault that I succeeded with fleeing, she did put up a fight, I'll give her that.

But there's no use in dwelling on it, it's a matter of survival and if I hadn't left that house soon, I was going to end up coping with my frustration in very unhealthy ways.

I would've trashed that old man's office just to get back at him, and although I would've found great pleasure in doing that, I couldn't possibly let other people clean up my mess for me.

I had to find a way to detoxify from all the negative energy I absorbed being around my father and Levi, as I was very close to self-destructing if I spent another second with either of them.

Fast forward now in the safety of an air-conditioned hotel room with the contents of my luggage scattered around the floor in disarray, my limbs flaccid as I lie down on the silky surface of the bed with my eyes closed and my breathing unsteady, trying to relish the peaceful silence of my surroundings.

This is the first time since I've arrived here in New York where I have quality time all to myself, absolved from my father's nagging or Levi's unavoidable presence trailing behind me like balls and chains. It was nice. For once, not feeling trapped by people you found unbearable.

Which may seem harsh, but unfortunately, it was the truth, the longer I spent time with them, the harder it was to endure their company, and you'd think after three years of living under the same roof as my father I would've strengthened my relationship with him by now.

But it's sad to say a parent and their child could be incompatible, no matter how much you impose your love on them, if it just isn't working... it probably never will.

I ruminate on that idea with a dull ache weighing down on my chest as if thoughts about my father still find a way to haunt me even when he's not there to suck the life out of me himself.

Despite being aware of how isolated I got when he was around, the feeling of loneliness still lingers even when he's not here to bother me anymore.

Perhaps because a part of me questions why. Why is it that the person I should consider as my emotional support system has done nothing but inflict psychological warfare on me? Has slowly broken me apart every day, has made me feel the most complicit I've ever been because he was looking out for my best interest.

But that's not what it feels like, I feel like I'm being confined in a birdcage, and even if the bars are gold, even if he gives me the most high-quality seeds to choke on, in the end, a cage is still a cage, and the longer I stay, the more any remaining wings I have left are starting to wither, and even if I find a way to somehow break free out of there...

What other sanctuary am I able to go to now, when he's made it his mission to make me the most dependent I've ever been on him?

I despised him for leaving me and mom when he filed for a divorce, resented him for the lack of support he gave me, but if he was going to offer any, he could at least try not to dangle it over my head as if I have to earn it instead of just giving it to me without having to beat myself down for it.