My parents affection was a paradox.

On one hand, they were the most loving guardians one could ask for growing up.

I have no shortage of great stories with them,

outings to museums that stimulated my interests growing up,

amazing family vacations that brought me closer to the far ends of my family tree.

They provided me with consoles and games when they could afford to do so.

However, once I became an adult, this all changed.

I was on my way to college, delving into my path of choosing for my future, and they wanted to give

me space to grow.

It's true, I was a bit coddled growing up, so I respected their decision to let me leave the nest.

They did this by doing what they talked about for as long as I could remember.

They moved to the sticks in a lovely looking rural cabin.

It was perfect for them. They had space to grow

whatever they wanted in the open fields. They had enough bedrooms to visit. They even

had a small pool to use if they could get someone out there to maintain it.

The price they got it for was a steel, which helped them achieve their goal much earlier in life than they planned.

However, once they finally moved, this is where we got distant.

Though they'd answer calls readily, they always shot down my advances to come over.

I'd occasionally offer them to come see me in case they were self-conscious

about something in the cabin but they were quick to shut that down too. I

figured this was all part of their lesson to teach me my individualism, but the first big red flag that burned me was that they didn't come to my graduation.

After that, this cycle just ran over and over.

...