Originally Posted by who moi

Many years ago, I just had to leave the house...

it was already one of those days, my father was dying but I still hated him. I had just gotten home from work from my second job and I wasn't looking forward to my third job...

my mom was grouchy, she needed to get some sleep before she headed to her second job. But he was being difficult.

He won't take his meds: the reason why we all had to get extra jobs for...

HIS MEDS...

it was outrageous....he didn't have insurance, medicaid denied him, and with his heart failure, diabetes, light dementia, the different types of medicines that he required to be on became a burden to all of us...

my mom and I had to get extra jobs just so we could pay for his medicines...

but still, he refused to take it sometimes...

highly superstitious yet easily influenced by charlatans and quacks...

he had taken to alternative medicine against our wishes...but thus costing us more money...

because he never said he wanted to quit taking the regular meds...and he never committed nor uncommitted to anything...

we were all in limbo land...

and for years...he and I, we were like fire and ice....I hated him and I was sure that he hated me...

I am not even sure how it got started or why it got started or if it was even anything important now...and after he died, I felt like such a jackass....all those "fights" over the years...up in smoke...none of the bickerings mattered anymore....NONE....he was now gone and so was a piece of my heart...I had no idea that I'd be hurt so bad by his passing...and how dumb I was for holding on to those angers...

but at the time, it was important...it annoyed the heckit out of me....

I felt like I was wasting my life, there, helping to take care of him...

but deep within, I did loved him...I wanted to do everything in my power to keep him alive...

but at the same time, I couldn't stand him....I sometimes wished that he'd just died so that we all could move on...

that day was one of those days....

he was grouchy, my mom was grouchy, and I was grouchy...

I can't remember what happened, I was tired but I just had to get out of the house....

I got into my car and I started to drive....

where to? It didn't mattered...I just needed to get out...

as I drove down the road, I noticed a fly was resting on my windshield...

it was a cold day, it was winter time...a time when most critters should've either been hibernating, dead, or not around....

but there it was, this tiny fly, on my windshield...

I grinned an evil grin as I started to sped down the highway....

35mph, 45mph, 55mph, 65mph....

I can see that it was clinging to the windshield...but somehow, undaunted....

it occasionally flapped its tiny wings...and for some reason, I felt it was "speaking" to me with a German accent....

I went from surprised, to shocked, to amazed...

so there we were....

it, on this highway of life...

me, on this highway of hell....

it, clinging on for its life...

me, wanting to end it for all my strife...

I finally pulled into a gas station and it was still sitting on my windshield...

sitting there as if it had just won the Daytona 500...flickering and flapping its wings in victory...

I walked up close to it, with astonishment and admiration on my face...

then...

"SMACK!"

I smashed it with my hand...

I hate flies....