For a Fat Bag of Weed

It would be 2 years before I would see my Dad again. He didn’t care. No one cared. They just wanted me out so they didn’t have to worry about me or pay for me anymore. I get it. As a parent of kids in their twenties I understand the frustration of watching your child flounder in an adult world, but I also know the desire for that extra room in the house, and smaller meals followed by quiet nights. But that’s not the way it is; not now, not then. !8 is just a number, and even though the government says you are an adult, very few of us are ready to wear the yolk of adult responsibility. Sometimes, though, you have no choice. You are thrust into a situation and you either have to step up and handle it, or crumble and hope to die. I would end up doing both. 092

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