Take you away from that empty apartment
You stay, and forget where the heart is
Someday if ever you loved me you'd say, "It's okay"
Waking up from this nightmare
How's your life? What's it like there?
Is it all what you want it to be?
Does it hurt when you think about me?
And how broken my heart is

I didn't know what to say. What do you say after your father tells you that he's dying?

I took the enraged route. If he was going to be angry with me, I was going to fight anger with anger.

"You cannot just tell me that you're dying to make me move home! That is a bullshit excuse, Father," I seethed.

"Phil…Honey, he's not lying," my mother said in her sweetest voice. She was the one woman I was sure would never, ever lie to me. How could I not believe her?

"Mom…" I sighed, burying my head in my hands. "How long…Why?"

"Lung cancer," my dad answered. "All the cigarettes have gotten to me, finally."

Ah, his smoking habit, yet one of the many reasons I have chosen a straight-edge lifestyle.

"And when were you actually planning on telling me? At the funeral?" I couldn't help but to say something ridiculous like that. I was angry. I needed Kylie here.

"Don't talk back to me!" my dad screamed.

"Honey, settle down…Don't want to get your blood pressure up any higher," my mom said, rushing to my dad's side and rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to calm him down.

"Phil, just please, do me this favor. My dying wish is that you break up with her and move back home. And if you could come home for good…That would be great."

Give up my job, my girlfriend, and my home because my father is dying? I love my father, but I don't know if I can do that. I've worked so hard for everything that I currently have. Everyone dies in the end. It's a lesson I had to learn early. I know that at one point in my life, I will be without my parents, either one of them or both of them. Moving back home isn't going to save his life. Giving up my life won't let him keep his.

"I'm sorry, dad, but I can't."

"You can't do this for me?" he asked with a glare. "Your father is dying right before your eyes, and you won't come home to take care of him?"

"I have too much going on, dad. I'm a professional wrestler. I travel all across the world for my job. I can't give that up. It's what I was born to do."

"No, it's not. Do you know what children are born to do? They are born to take care of their parents when they get old!"

"And parents are supposed to support the decisions of their children!"

I could already tell that this wasn't going anywhere. I was usually a laid back guy, but when I wanted to defend myself, I would. I was stubborn like that, a trait I must have gotten from my father. Can't you tell?

"Fine then. If you don't want to do this for me, then I don't want to see you for the rest of my life."