I heard stories about my parents. Most of them I paid attention to. Others, I ignored. Seeing them up close in this way felt wrong. This was opening a box in my head, which I refused to acknowledge. In my head, my parents were in love. They couldn't get enough of each other. They were the perfect picture of enemies to lovers. I mean, they had to have some sort of affection for each other to have me. In the clip portrayed on the wall, this was far from the truth.
It was all bizarre. It seemed these were two different people than the ones in my childhood. Don't get me wrong but growing up I had never witnessed them kissing or touching in any sexual way. However, they never argued or behaved with hostility when I was around. They were the perfect parents. Mom showed her true headstrong qualities when Father was out of town. Other than that, there was nothing to say my parents were never in love.
