I REMEMBER

I remember the echo of my footfalls in strangers' carports as I ran home from ballet class in Montreal's frozen winter

I remember perfect days on my white ten speed where I wanted for nothing

I remember the bubbling sensation in my chest while sitting on my parents’ bed when things seemed to be going so well for us

I remember finding marijuana in my dad’s gym bag and feeling personally insulted and older and wiser than him

I remember canoe trips where I complained and whined but loved every minute of it

I remember the sound of the vacuum banging my door to awaken me out of my perfect teenage slumber

I remember biting down on my hand to draw blood to show my mum how incensed I was with her

I remember feeling a sort of uneasiness when my mom would force my dad to kiss her

I remember being petrified that my parents would split up

I remember wondering why in the world my parents got married

I remember hearing about my mother’s pregnancy at nineteen and consequent marriage to my dad

I remember loving being alone