If you had known your dead beat father would be home for the first time in years you would never have invited your boyfriend Johnny to come home from deployment with you.

If you had known that when you walked into your house laughing with your boyfriend that it would come crashing down as your dead beat father shouted your name, stumbling toward you and practically falling in your lap reeking of alcohol and drugs.

If you’d known how embarrassing it would be that your boyfriend had to help clean up your father’s sick and spilt alcohol and drugs you wouldn’t have bothered.

After struggling to get your father sober and into the spare room to sleep off the drugs, you sit on the couch with your head in your hands, trying not to cry while Johnny slowly takes a seat beside you, he doesn’t know what to say or how to help but he wants to.

He knows you’re scared and embarrassed. He’s been there.

Slowly he puts his hand on the small of your back, whispering “it’s alright, doll. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, we all have a story…and I want to know yours…”