Running Away
Marc, Eddie and I went to the movies tonight. Marc met two of his friends there. Marc left with them without telling me; he went to get a refill on popcorn and didn’t come back.
Texted me that he had a change of clothes and a place to stay and that he would be okay.
I called his father who lamented the “drama queen bullshit” that prohibited him from … from what?
So Marc is gone (again), Will is referring to his limited legal position as my fault, and there is really nothing new with either of them.
I’m not worried about Marc. He has no money, no job, and soon he’ll have no phone. His friends will eventually tire of housing and feeding him, and he’ll come home (eventually) to find school uniforms and two changes of clothes in his closet. He’ll always have a home here.
But I’m tired of providing luxuries for a child who doesn’t appreciate them and compassion for a man who forgets who he’s talking to when he’s pissed or worried.
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