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Balancing emotions is hard. When events within the house don't line up well with the events outside of the house. I'm in one of these situations right now.
My father and sister left the house so that she could volunteer at a hospital, and he could visit his girlfriend. Me? I'm left at home to work and clean. I'm suppose to run in the mornings, but my running partner and I are too lazy to wake up that early in the morning. Who wants to wake up before noon just to run in cool weather? Well, as much as we would love to pull it off, we can't; too tired in the mornings.
My "work" is that of a tech for Three Windows. We just had our first rehersal today, but techs aren't needed til August. I will be spending afternoons with friends, F.A.A.0.7.+, and perhaps I'll eventually get to work on my APlit summer homework.
Lately, I haven't been able to sleep before three am, so I've been going through my mother's "treasure chest." It's nothing more than an asian black chest, but it holds many things in it. Most would think it's all worthless, but to me, they are treasures. My mom wrote letters to each of her daughters and placed it in there. She also wrote to my dad, but I don't think I was suppose to read it. I like the was my dad used to describe "honey" hehe. Most of the things in there are things like books, letters, cards, cross stitchings, old cloths. But each item has it's own unique value to it. I found my sisters' and my old baby clothes, mom's wedding dress, her reception dress (asian tradition), among other things. Mom has lots of books on cooking, sewing, fashion and candy making. Also cake designing. I still have half the chest to go through but I'm trying to pace myself. I'm actually reading through some of the books. By the end of the summer, I want to know as much about her as I can. I don't want to go through my whole life telling others, "All I know about my mother, is what she told me when I was four." No, I want to be able to say, "I know.... about my mother, because she left momentos and such for me and my sisters to understand her better." I have a feeling she knew she was dying over a year ahead of her actual death date. The date of the letters proves it. And as much as I want to say all of it doesn't affect me, I can't. To tell you the truth, finding so much about my mother so suddenly, has made me so emotional, that I really don't know what to do with myself. It's like I'm a freshmen in high school again. But instead of periodical rage, it's depression. I'm crying all the time at home; it's disconcerning really.
Then there are things happening outside of the house/family, that really don't help. One of my friend's parents are in the middle of a divorce. I love her parents as if they were my own, and I love her like a best friend/sister (more of a sister though). It hurts to see her trying to be strong because of her younger siblings. I feel sorry for little A.J., he won't remember any of this when he gets older. He'll always ask, "where is -insert mommy or daddy, dunno yet-?" until he gets older.
Then one of my other friends is dating a guy too much like her ex-boyfriends, that I know she'll just get hurt, and come crying to me. Psh, she comes trying to me after it's all over, but before and during, she'll tell everyone else but me. I'm sorry to say it, but I'm tired of being her crutch. I don't care if I'm suppose to be the "supportive, motherly" friend, but she's done this so many times before. She'll treat me like I have the ears of a child but the mind of an adult. She'll try to tell me the story, but it all ends up in "child language" in, which for example: she had sex with the guy, and her parents caught her, but she'll tell me her parents caught her making out with the guy. Then only after I find out, she'll say, "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean anything by it; I just thought you had heard already." Yet, what's she's really saying is "I didn't want to harm your childish ears by saying it to your face. I'd much rather face your passive wrath now." That's what gets me! She's two-faced when she wants to be, but refuses to admit it. It's like she's asking to lose those that truely care about her well being.
Then other friends always says, "Well, you can always talk to me, you know." I know they want me to talk to them, but I just can't. Something in my mind says that by telling them, I'm adding to their load of bullshit drama that is a killer blow to the head. I don't want to put that on their plate. I'd rather be that bottle of sand in which the different colors are emotions. The sand at the bottom are the deepest emotions that I never reveal, and the ones on top are the ones always shown. And when the bottle fills, and extensive amount of one emotion will be seen bubbling over the top, while the others stay. Those that stay will be the ones protecting me, the part of me, no one else must see.
 midnight-mystic-dragon · Tue Jun 26, 2007 @ 05:58am · 0 Comments |
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