When I grew up, I always thought that my Uncle Greg was my uncle. Turns out, after 10 years of thinking this, I finally learned the truth. He was my father.

My Mother and him weren’t siblings or anything, It’s a lot more complicated than that. When my Mother met my “Dad” they were young and foolish. They got married quickly and had me. Now my “Dad” had always had terrible anxiety and other problems like that, and the pills that he took for that made him sleepy all the time. When I was born, he said that he didn’t want me to have a father like that and told my Mother to have me call him by “Uncle”. So, I did that until I was about ten or so and then my mom told me everything. My Mother was always going through with marriages and divorces and now we have to live with that. Sometimes I wish my “Dad” wouldn’t have been so selfish to leave my mother alone, until my mother met this man named Michael, recently. They are happily married (for now) and have been for two years. I hope my story has inspired all of you to stick it through until the end and there will be a reward.