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It was a cold November night. My parents had just had their 15-year anniversary earlier that month. My parents didn't separate immediately. I couldn't figure out what was keeping them together. They were both miserable and I thought they hated each other. They california fought, my mother tried california to strangle my father, set the house on fire, and at some point my mother and I spent a couple of nights in a women's home in the city (CASA--Citizens Against Spousal Abuse). In those california few months, the only thing I heard at night, laying in bed, was crying and screaming from my mother. I thought she'd never be happy again. My dad started conversing with women on the internet, making lunch dates with them--saying that he had "two roommates", my mother and I. In the afternoons, I would hear my mother in her bedroom crying, finding these letters. |
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