(no subject)
I wish I could say that everything, or even most things, have gotten better by now.
That isn't to say that nothing has improved in this great span of time- the new thing that I am trying, that wonderfully frightening thing, is blossoming faster than I ever could have imagined. He respects me as a person. He stands up for me. He does his best to hold me tightly and loosely at the same time. He might even feel "that way".
I think I will tell him those words that I never said directly in a way he can easily understand. Not for a while yet, though. (I think he knows what I am saying anyway.)
Otherwise, chaos reigns. My father has filed for divorce and no longer sleeps in the house. My mother, if not sick, has little to no will to do anything. Matthew is still locked away in a prison where he is treated as an outcast for being both intelligent and white. For Thanksgiving, I will most likely be going to that wonderful person's house. I feel a light, pulsing pain when I think about Christmas.
There are a few small things I would like to rant about before I finish my speech for tomorrow morning:
Other Chances, Other Questions
Am I allowed to feel as though my friends do not respect me? Am I at fault? If so, where have I been going wrong? Am I not a good person in the slightest? Am I allowed to be angry that they are keeping their distance? Am I permitted to feel some angst that my world seems to have shrunk to That Wonderful Person and myself, with everyone either neutral or allied against us? Am I able to be forgiven for being deeply flawed, angry and stressed, and generally unstable? Wasn't this sort of thing, this nigh unbearable confusion of identity and standing supposed to have been toned down by now, if not figured out? Am I behind? Will my questions ever have definitive answers?*
My Birthday Party (as planned)
My mother wants to pretend that we are a whole and functioning family on that day. She wants us to have a "nice sit-down dinner where no one feels awkward". I applaud and appreciate her efforts, but I would prefer it if she did not aim to pretend. All four of my friends know what is going on. The rest of my immediate family knows as well. Creating a false atmosphere of familial closeness will do nothing but create more tension. I would rather let things be as they are and hope that some conversation about the valleys opening up between us comes about. I don't care much if it's in front of those who are not involved- I want us to talk.
That Wonderful Person's Family
His family is huge compared to mine- he himself is the youngest of seven children, an uncle several times over, and cannot remember everyone's names. The way they act together strikes several powerful chords in me. One is a pang for what I feel I am losing. Another is a yearning for what I feel as though I have missed. Still another is a desire to be surrounded by such noise and chaotic scenery.
As the oldest of all the cousins and grandchildren in a very small family, I always was left to amuse myself once I reached a certain age. There were benefits to being left to my own devices- my creativity was exercised daily and I learned how to contain myself in situations where appearing demure was beneficial. However, when it came to interacting with lots of children my own age and being able to connect with them, I was at a loss. Now, I have great difficulties suffering to be the provider of amusement for youngsters. He is used to it, having always been either the one bothering others or the one being bothered. Parts of me wish that I could have had that sort of experience.
Their family is not perfect. I know this well, and I recognize that no family is without their skeletons or bad times. However, compared to the lack of support and love I feel from my own at the moment, his family seems like everything I ever wanted. People coming in and out all the time, everyone keeping in touch with each other, large gatherings for no other reason than to get together... being surrounded by so many people still makes me want to run and hide as fast as possible, yet... seeing them like that makes me wish that my family had been similar. We were always quiet and self-contained, especially as my brother and I grew older. My mom never had many friends and my dad liked to go out with his "buds". That isn't to say that we never did anything as a family or with other people, it is just that the memories seem so few and so distant. My small family is also scattered, so keeping up with everyone is difficult at best. I barely know anyone outside of my first-degree aunts and uncles.
Ah. Okay. I have vented enough. Vomiting words always leaves a bitter after-taste...
* - Probably not.
That isn't to say that nothing has improved in this great span of time- the new thing that I am trying, that wonderfully frightening thing, is blossoming faster than I ever could have imagined. He respects me as a person. He stands up for me. He does his best to hold me tightly and loosely at the same time. He might even feel "that way".
I think I will tell him those words that I never said directly in a way he can easily understand. Not for a while yet, though. (I think he knows what I am saying anyway.)
Otherwise, chaos reigns. My father has filed for divorce and no longer sleeps in the house. My mother, if not sick, has little to no will to do anything. Matthew is still locked away in a prison where he is treated as an outcast for being both intelligent and white. For Thanksgiving, I will most likely be going to that wonderful person's house. I feel a light, pulsing pain when I think about Christmas.
There are a few small things I would like to rant about before I finish my speech for tomorrow morning:
Other Chances, Other Questions
Am I allowed to feel as though my friends do not respect me? Am I at fault? If so, where have I been going wrong? Am I not a good person in the slightest? Am I allowed to be angry that they are keeping their distance? Am I permitted to feel some angst that my world seems to have shrunk to That Wonderful Person and myself, with everyone either neutral or allied against us? Am I able to be forgiven for being deeply flawed, angry and stressed, and generally unstable? Wasn't this sort of thing, this nigh unbearable confusion of identity and standing supposed to have been toned down by now, if not figured out? Am I behind? Will my questions ever have definitive answers?*
My Birthday Party (as planned)
My mother wants to pretend that we are a whole and functioning family on that day. She wants us to have a "nice sit-down dinner where no one feels awkward". I applaud and appreciate her efforts, but I would prefer it if she did not aim to pretend. All four of my friends know what is going on. The rest of my immediate family knows as well. Creating a false atmosphere of familial closeness will do nothing but create more tension. I would rather let things be as they are and hope that some conversation about the valleys opening up between us comes about. I don't care much if it's in front of those who are not involved- I want us to talk.
That Wonderful Person's Family
His family is huge compared to mine- he himself is the youngest of seven children, an uncle several times over, and cannot remember everyone's names. The way they act together strikes several powerful chords in me. One is a pang for what I feel I am losing. Another is a yearning for what I feel as though I have missed. Still another is a desire to be surrounded by such noise and chaotic scenery.
As the oldest of all the cousins and grandchildren in a very small family, I always was left to amuse myself once I reached a certain age. There were benefits to being left to my own devices- my creativity was exercised daily and I learned how to contain myself in situations where appearing demure was beneficial. However, when it came to interacting with lots of children my own age and being able to connect with them, I was at a loss. Now, I have great difficulties suffering to be the provider of amusement for youngsters. He is used to it, having always been either the one bothering others or the one being bothered. Parts of me wish that I could have had that sort of experience.
Their family is not perfect. I know this well, and I recognize that no family is without their skeletons or bad times. However, compared to the lack of support and love I feel from my own at the moment, his family seems like everything I ever wanted. People coming in and out all the time, everyone keeping in touch with each other, large gatherings for no other reason than to get together... being surrounded by so many people still makes me want to run and hide as fast as possible, yet... seeing them like that makes me wish that my family had been similar. We were always quiet and self-contained, especially as my brother and I grew older. My mom never had many friends and my dad liked to go out with his "buds". That isn't to say that we never did anything as a family or with other people, it is just that the memories seem so few and so distant. My small family is also scattered, so keeping up with everyone is difficult at best. I barely know anyone outside of my first-degree aunts and uncles.
Ah. Okay. I have vented enough. Vomiting words always leaves a bitter after-taste...
* - Probably not.