My parents are bad at handling stress. They are bad at hiding emotions. They stress eat.
My parents love me. They do not say it often. They show it always. They love me more than they should. It is not healthy – all their eating and all their loving.
I am a bit off my rocker – self-obsessed, insanely crazy and extremely moody. I do not understand the concept of love or caring or giving. I do not feel at all.
And yet they love me.
I write. They eat.
I write a bit more. They play tennis or they jog.
I can only still write. And they can only love me
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