I wish Sydney would come back, the rent-a-cop would run away like a scared cockroach.
And I look at Sam and realize this is something I created, something I probably didn't do such a good job being in charge of, I can blame myself for how we are today.
Sure enough, I made sure he was always fed and had a roof over him, but I can't remember the last time I was ever really a father to him.
I have a strange urge to go to a park with him and throw balls back and forth, it's something I can't remember when I last did that for him. I can't remember the last time we ever talked without it winding up in a yelling match.
There are moments in life that if you miss them, you never get them back, and I find myself crying. It must be the drugs. But maybe there is something to this, that the only words I can find to say to my son are apologies.