Can love slowly yet surely grow into resentment? Not necessarily love, but the things that we do for love. Say, for example, you are helping your mother through a very rough transition of different medical drugs; slowly eliminating one and starting an entirely new one. Now, in my personal opinion, I think people who have been through more life-altering events know the deeper and more meaningful side of love and relationships than others. Yet, when your mother is balling on her bathroom floor while you're there to clean up her bloody mess after she clawed herself to mere bone; it can cause one to wonder if this is what relation and heredity will subdue you to. I do not want to resent my mother, but I also do not want to grow up aspiring to be the exact opposite of her either. Did I miss the one way ticket to normalcy? Because in all honesty, on the outskirts of my large stew of love brews a terrible new being yet waiting to be unleashed.