After the night she got arrested, the night I could have been terribly injured by that ladder she knocked down (coincidentally, right where i was sitting), I couldn't call her mom anymore. I felt like screaming. She would tell me all the lies she could and pretend like she’d never done anything terrible. Though I didn't get killed by that ladder, I almost died later, but that’s different story from the one I'm telling right now. She was very different from most people I've ever met - not different in a good way. I didn't see her again, after that next year, and that’s actually something I’m ecstatic about. I might tend to feel a little crazy when I’m around her. I was happy for me, and for my dad after the divorce.
He would get abused, too,(more verbally than we would, and physically as well sometimes) along with me, and hardly ever my sister. He doesn't want anything to do with Kim; neither do I. My sister Grace is the only exception, and I can understand that. I don't miss Kim at all; I just miss having a mom (Then again, I've never had a real one). My dad couldn't love people very well after that. He's almost fixed now I think. At least, after he met Nikki, he started to get a lot better.
I've never seen love up close before. Not until now. What Kim and Dad had wasn't love. It was absolute self loathing to have her there. What dad and Nikki have, THAT is love. I could tell just by staring for a few moments. I would listen intensely to the way they would talk to each other. Caring, focused on making each other happy. I would watch the way my dad's eyes would light up and his cheeks would rise and there would be a huge smile on his lips. And though he wasn't a perfect man - not even close - she was accepting anyways. Accepting of us all, wanting to love us, no matter how completely imperfect we knew we were. The way she would stroke her fingers through his hair, styling it perfectly...
The way they would give each other undeniable happiness and joy, the kind that doesn't go away no matter how much you upset yourself...
That was genuinely love, like I had never seen before, and I would force myself to admire it.
And that night, he took his hands crossed over chest to signal the hurt that had been created over the years. His arms opened after that to signal the opportunities that were now available, and he took us into his arms and squoze us as hard as he could until we couldn't breathe and he said to us one thing that I still remember to this very day - "She's the one. She's the one and I'll never be able to let her go as long as I live."
I remember that, I always will. That is genuinely, beautifully love, and I don't think I will ever shy away from the serendipity that was chosen by fate before I was.