I will never be a parent.
Bad body parts combined with worse brain matter have cemented this fact.
I know how to love like one.
My parents have officially signed up for their vaccines. In a matter of weeks, they will be safe from this virus.
And that’s all that matters to me.
As long as they’re safe, I’m good.
I would do anything for them, give anything to save them—
Much like a parent would do for a child.
Why this knowledge fills a gaping hole in me, I can’t say. (But I lay all blame for it on the afore-cursed brain matter and a chronically squishy heart.)
Here ends today’s Confession of the Bizarre and the Pitiful.