Love or Loathe Story

I come over to your house, the clock reads 3pm. I just said good bye to my mother moments earlier, I knew you could comfort me, after all, your father is gone too. My mascara streamed down my face, I looked like a tomato with black stripes. I am not the most beautiful crier. I crumpled onto your bed and you just poured some bourbon into your mug and drank. You held me for a couple of seconds but not enough to feel comforted. Your room had the sweet and distinct smell of alcohol. A smell I am all too familiar with. You had me sit on your lap and asked me questions. Which parent do you love more? Who do you care for more? Who would you rather live with? What's wrong? All questions that shouldn't be asked in a moment like this. You took me into the backyard and said "I will tell you what's wrong if you tell me." I told him how this is the fourth time telling him but I had to say goodbye. He told me "you know this isn't going to work." He went on saying "I love you, you're cute, I want my children to look like you. I really do love you." I kept replaying those words on the drive home. I had to pull over a few times to regain composure.