If I wasn't the spitting image of my biological father at my age, you'd never know we're related. For that reason, I have a compelling urge to get into more fistfights in order to break my nose and look less like him. He's a vicious alcoholic drug-addict violent racist religious gun-nut felon...there are about 500 more adjectives I'm truncating. (If he has a good trait, I never saw it.) We haven't spoken since I was 13. Well, he speaks and I calmly inform him through proxies that his insistence on trying to have a relationship is interfering with my ability to consider him dead. He's mathy. I'm a writer. He's never read any book but the Bible. I'm godless.
My mother is a severely-introverted caustic sad-drunk with a sadistic streak for psychological abuse. I have slightly more in common with my mother than my father, we share this view of revenge...I'm not even mad, you're just going to suffer to an outsized degree in relation to what you've done. Never wanted kids and told us growing-up she regrets having us. I can't be mad at her but we're not alike. If I didn't look like my father, I'd think she adopted us...she's completely devoid of any type of maternal bond and much closer to her nephews than her own kids. She's kind of a townie. She complains when she has to think. I'm urbane, urban and contemplative.
Mostly, I'm like my stepfather. Only decent parent we had. Actually a happy person, patience of a saint, likes kids. My one saving grace is that my mother's taste in men is so narrow physically that I can pass myself off as his usually.
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