“You don’t know a damn thing about me.” Flash Fiction for Siobhan Muir’s #ThursThreads

closet“This is crazy, Dad.” Paul ran both hands through his hair, eyes affixed to the floor.

Craig, on the other hand, stared at me like I had grown two heads. “Are you positive?”

I laughed then. I had just come out to my two sons after forty years of denial and their reactions couldn’t be more fitting. Paul never liked anything outside the norm, preferring to stay in his safe little world. And Craig constantly questioned everything, his scientist’s brain always at work.

“It’s that whole mid-life crisis thing,” Paul replied before I could answer, beginning to pace. “He’s struggling to find himself after being alone for so long and with his 55th birthday around the corner….”

I grabbed him by the arm to stop him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. I’d like to think you believe me to have a healthier grasp on reality AND my own life than that.”

Paul sighed. “This is not who you are, Dad.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Paul.” I said through clenched teeth. I took a calming breath. “What do you either of you know about my life? You went to live with your mother in the middle of grade-school and never gave me the time of day when I tried to keep in touch. But here it is twenty years later, we’ve reconnected and I’ve finally accepted who I am. I had hoped my sons would understand.”

Craig blinked and smiled. “He’s positive, Paul.”


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