The Next Explosion

April 22, 2008
By
Stage 1. It's happening. Slam! Followed by frustration, fighting, shouting. The tension is so thick not even a bullet could break it. I quickly dry myself off as I scamper into my room. It started as I left my shower. The reason for this is "disagreement" is my towel. It was previously on my floor. It's really my own fault for wasting a shower. I need to start cleaning up my cave of a room.
Stage 2. It starts with a very sarcastic "Good job, Meghan." My parents retreat to their separate parts
of the house. The cooling off process begins. Sometimes it takes longer than usual. The apologies are delayed or not fully meant, etc. etc. This behavior is mainstream for my family lately. The teenage years hit my parents hard. I can't help that I'm changing, I just am. However, my parents want me to stay in the caterpillar form forever. The fights are constant, but I'm still not used to them. I just want peace to be restored. Without it, I can't concentrate on my work. Especially because every fight is centered around me. I'm not perfect, and I do not wish to be so. Our faults make us interesting and unique. I wish my parents could see that.
Stage 3. Noises. They are preparing themselves for the aftermath. Although this was a big fight, they will be fine in a few hours or so. Forgiveness of themselves is key for them to be able to forgive each other.
Stage 4. Apologies and compromises made. TV show selected. Food prepared. We sit together on our couch and discuss meaningless topics. We ramble about American Idol and our favorites. We are finally harmonious again. I twitch as the internal clock ticks down. It's counting down the seconds until the next explosion.





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