It would have been easier had he stayed away, now I’m forced to remember all those painful memories. And worse yet, left alone to deal with them. They don’t see it. They can’t. They are too busy with their own screwed up lives to notice the one that’s ever so slowly slipping down the drain. If only they’d open their eyes, care enough to find out if what I’m telling them is actually true. If only they’d ask “How are you REALLY?” Then maybe they’d learn, maybe they’d care. Maybe I wouldn’t be left sitting here.
All the things I long to tell him, I can't. I've been forbidden from it. The things that kill me to have to hide, to keep secret, to keep hidden....are the things I'd long to tell him. But I can't.
She's stolen my best friend from me. The only one who ever truly understood me. Who cared. Now he's gone. Maybe not physically (though he will be soon) but emotionally. That connection we once had is gone. All because of her. And she wonders why I despise her. Why I argue with her. Why I count down the days till I'm free of HER. Yet for some odd reason people continue to think that it will all just disappear once I'm out of the house. It wont. We are incapable of getting along. I know that. She knows that. Yet she pretends that she doesn't. She pretends that I'm the daughter she always wanted, the one she dreamed of before I was born. She pretends that I'm the perfect child who does everything the way it should be. She imagines me as the little stay at home mom who does all these girly things...that's not me. I'm not the daughter she wanted. No, that task fell to my sister in law. The perfect daughter. The one she always dreamed of.
Its common knowledge that the middle child is always left hanging. The oldest does everything first. When they graduate its a first. When they turn 18 its a first. When they start driving its a first. Same with the youngest. When they start driving its a last, therefore much more emotional cause that means the children are growing up. When they graduate HS its another last, therefore another emotional event. But us middle children? Nothing we do is ever important, ever emotional. Why, cause its already been done and will be done again.
Josh this. Josh that. Josh this. Josh that. That's all I've heard these past 2 years. COME ON! Yes, he was a senior. yes it was his last year at home. BUT REALLY?!. "Ah, my baby boy is graduating HS!" Ah, he needs a graduation party. He's joining the military! He's got a girlfriend! He needs a going way party! Don't tell him anything bad, don't make him worry! He doesn't need that! Ah he's engaged! Ah he's graduating from Basic Training. HES MARRIED! I've got a married son! Don't worry him, he doesn't need that. I WANT TO SEE MY SON TOO! Spring Break Yeah I get to see my son again! (H E DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS! WHY ON EARTH DID I EVER AGREE TO GO ON A VACATION WITH HER!?) My boy's coming home! YEAH! Ah..he's leaving. I'm going to go cry for the billionth time.
I know that people in the military need support, they don't need to be worried. But seriously...does everything have to be about him all the freaking time! What about me? This is my year isn't it? I'm leaving home in less than 336 days...shouldn't it be "Me" sometimes? Nope. Instead it goes like this through her head every freaking second of the day. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Moll--no wait..change my mind--Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. "I feel like I'm forgetting someone...nevermind" Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. "Oh YEAH! Molly. She can wait." Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Molly. Repeat.
Gah. I was fine, until he came home. Now I have to deal with all this crap once again. I had managed to forget it. Or at least shove the thoughts away so I didn't have to think about them. I can't now. I'm forced to confront them once again...just cause he's back and now I have daily reminders of all this crap. God, this isn't even all of it. But I can't keep typing...I dont want Jake to see my crying.
0 comments:
Post a Comment