cold home

i grew up in a cold home.

now it might be oxymoronic to say, but it while there wasn't a lot of affection in my family, i still considered it home and i wouldn't trade it for any other.

hugs, kisses and emotional support is a rarity in our home. emotions are barely discussed. we're happy on a regular basis, yes. i guess it's the strong stoicism my family members had was what kept us stable enough to stand every possible turmoil. we were, perhaps, the family equivalent of what russians are to hospitality.

i bring that to all relationships i have. birthdays happen more often than me showing any form of affection. but i do bring my brand of warmth. i will be an asshole, i will be a bully, but i'll make sure that i will take care my people when they're utterly downtrodden and no one else will pick them up.

i don't necessarily live for the mundane acts of kindness -- anyone can do that. i've always veered away from being like most people, which works for me cause i've grown to be emotionally distant most of the time. i'm the person that deliberately delivers during crunch time.

i'm just mostly biding my time, really.

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