I was recently talking with a friend, and he began to draw a parallel between a mutual acquaintance of ours and my childhood. The person in question is a real survivor and currently managing a rather chaotic existence. He said it reminded him of me and the untraditional life of my youth.
While there are similarities, I suggested there was a significant distinction between the two. Unlike this friend of ours who appears content with his troubled lot, I managed to survive abandonment and loneliness because of one main thing: I lived in a constant state of hope, always praying and dreaming that I might someday, someway, trade chaos for order and an unconventional family life for a traditional home.