(no subject)
I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my oldest child is now 18 and that my oldest daughter will be 16 this month. Have I really grown that old? I don't feel it. If anything, I still feel like a stupid little kid trying to make sense out of everything. Is that feeling ever going to change? Parts of me hope that it doesn't. In that aspect, I stay young "forever." Yet one small, more intelligent, part of me hopes that this feeling passes. Because, you know, you need to act your age.
But I don't like being an adult. I really don't. I don't want to adult for the rest of my life. Seems that the first half of my life was spent just trying to survive in the fuck-up of a childhood and the other half is spent trying to compensate for the little girl I never got to be. And never will be. That's reality for you.
Last night, Zoya wept, wailed and sobbed for hours because her heart got broken yet again. I spoke to her for a long time, and made her feel better. Yet, she woke up this morning and everything came crashing back at her. It reminded me so much of my own youth, where I thought every last rejection was an assault against my character. I didn't realize back then that I was never the problem; They just couldn't handle a girl like me. It took me years and years of patience and hope to finally find the one man who could. And I married him. I know things will get better for Zoya. I know her heart will heal, and she will learn to move on. And I know her heart will get broken over and over, again and again, before she finally finds the man who was always meant to be hers. And I feel sad in the knowing. I do hate seeing her so broken.
Ah, I'll have to finish this some other time. The toddler is demanding attention and far be it from me to deny her her wish.
But I don't like being an adult. I really don't. I don't want to adult for the rest of my life. Seems that the first half of my life was spent just trying to survive in the fuck-up of a childhood and the other half is spent trying to compensate for the little girl I never got to be. And never will be. That's reality for you.
Last night, Zoya wept, wailed and sobbed for hours because her heart got broken yet again. I spoke to her for a long time, and made her feel better. Yet, she woke up this morning and everything came crashing back at her. It reminded me so much of my own youth, where I thought every last rejection was an assault against my character. I didn't realize back then that I was never the problem; They just couldn't handle a girl like me. It took me years and years of patience and hope to finally find the one man who could. And I married him. I know things will get better for Zoya. I know her heart will heal, and she will learn to move on. And I know her heart will get broken over and over, again and again, before she finally finds the man who was always meant to be hers. And I feel sad in the knowing. I do hate seeing her so broken.
Ah, I'll have to finish this some other time. The toddler is demanding attention and far be it from me to deny her her wish.