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This isn’t my first memory, but when someone says ‘What’s your first memory’ this is the first that comes to mind.
I’m six and I’m still in my pajamas. It’s a Saturday but I’m usually not allowed to wear them past breakfast so I feel like the world is my oyster. Dad is at work and I find Mom inside their room, packing.
I didn’t ask her what she was doing or where we were going, I just watch her and she answers me as if she could hear those thoughts in my head. “I’m leaving.” She tells me. “I probably won’t come home.”
My age gives me no perception of time what so ever, so I don’t understand the finality in her voice. I assume she means she wont be coming home ever in that day.
“I can’t stand it here anymore, I feel trapped.” She explains. “If it weren’t for you, I would have left a long time ago. I don’t know why I bothered though, as much as your father sleeps around you might not even be mine.”
It became evident to me years later how asinine that comment was. I still don’t know if she just had a bad sense of humor or if she was an idiot. By the way my dad constantly called her the “fucking stupidest bitch in the world” I’ve got to assume it’s the latter.
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