Fuck You!

Memories are interesting. Some I can recall pretty accurately, some I can barely remember and some I don’t remember at all. Then there are those moments, which just burnt into my memory, seemingly forever.

She screamed “Fuck You!”, then slammed the door and went downstairs. This unfortunately one of those, which burnt in forever.
I don’t know what innocent topic escalated to this point. Most likely started with a simple question of “how things are going?” or maybe one slightly more specific wondering about how things are going at school.

Doesn’t really matter.

I remember standing there. Again. Feeling defeated, deflated, empty and spent. Mentally.

Started going through the list of questions in my head:

• what started this?
• how did we get here?
• what could I have done differently to prevent this?
• what could she has done differently to prevent this?
• what could we have done together differently to prevent this?
• and not only today but through the past days/weeks/months/years…

And where do we even go from here?

Even I knew this current path wasn’t sustainable any longer. We had to take action.