It breaks.

     Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away, but now it seems they're here to stay.

     For the sake of being thought of as funny, David once again found himself in that extremely foolish, awkward place of being laughed at. At least he can say that he controlled why they were laughing at him now. It's a sad thing when intelligence is a laughable matter. What's more sad is that when David went home, this intelligence and pain was always overshadowed by Dad.

     For David, home was in a nice enough part of town, the lawn was always cut and the paint was chipped all to hell behind the shutters. Mom smiled for the neighbors but I could hear her crying every night Dad wasn't home. I still can't decide or remember why dad was always gone. Maybe my child's brain blocked out all of that ugly mess. Then why couldn't it block out everything else? Every other step, the floor creaked and all the doors hinges needed oil. When dad came home, the good was never good enough, if he even acknowledged that, and the bad was always all that his blind eyes could see. Without a glimmer of hope for any kind of advancement in his relationship with Dad, David made the decision one night to just duck his head and run with all of his might. High reward but also high risk. For if he fell or failed, Dad was sure to be there to point it out. If he was able to make it, though, the peace and freedom would be endless. To stay up all night and figure out all of his problems was his goal. To disappear from his dad's world: his mission.

     My skin crawls and my eyelids want only to rest, but I must pull through. Pushing against you is hard work and my knees are already 80 years old, but I must do what I have to. I have to be what I know I can be, and do so without you, because I know I can. I have a very strong sense of independence and I hope, for my sake and all those around me that I am able to control myself in all ways and make something of myself without hurting anyone who so happens to be around when I do so.