Adjusting

So it’s been about two, three months now? Since I moved out of dads. And I think I have finally adjusted to my new surroundings. The street I currently live on, feels like it’s come out of some Hollywood picture perfect sort of film. Like the Truman Show or something. I have always lived in a nice upper middle class neighbourhood (if that makes sense) but I have never seen a community so close and friendly with each other.

As I helped my friends dad (better father figure than my real father hands down) with the weeding, I began to mull over the current situation and my surroundings in my head. As we pulled the weeds out, we discussed the origins of mead in medieval times, and other various aspects of medieval times. Such as architecture, gender roles, beer brewing etc. And as this was going on, the neighbours children were outside playing, and upon seeing us pulling the weeks walked over and started to help us. I felt perplexed. Here we were having a typical Saturday doing your average family sort of thing. The kids were telling us stories, and the boy was talking to me about soccer.

I looked around at the perfectly mowed lawns and trimmed hedges. The shiny polished cars, and other happy kids playing in their yards amongst themselves and the parents getting involved. I couldn’t help but wonder what growing up in this environment (from day one) would of been like. It wasn’t long before the kids father came over and said hi, then took his son back to their yard and started playing soccer with him. As I mentioned earlier on, the boy (was about eight) was talking to me about soccer. He was very proud because he made it into some special soccer league, and was within the top five for his age group at school. Every afternoon after school, I hear him and his dad playing soccer together. I watched them kick the ball together, and listened to his father giving him tips on how to be the best. I thought back to when I was around his age, and how much I liked soccer. Then I remember all those weekends I spent kicking the ball against the wall by myself, because father didn’t want or have time, and mum was busy doing the house work after a full week at work. I remember being out there all day on the weekends, because I was trying to get better for try outs for the team. I never made it into the team of course.

The thing that really gets to me, is my friends parents are trying so hard to get me involved, to make me feel like I belong. But whenever I feel like I do or they try and have a parental sort of conversation with me, I just feel completely out of place, like I don’t belong here. Take tomorrow (well actually today) for instance. It’s Easter. And they are going to a friends for dinner and we are all expected to attend. I feel weird about going. What are there friends going to say about me? What are they going to ask me? How are they going to explain my presence there? They also want to take me to dads tomorrow to say hi. I don’t want to go. And they are in the process of organising my enrolment back into high school. I appreciate all the effort and it does make me feel good, but some how it just reminds how this isn’t truly my place. My family. Maybe it is a little too late.

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Miss you.

It’s 2am, and I can’t think clearly. The memories of you are just running through my mind. I think back to the time when you were around, and while everything was far from perfect… At least I had you. I think of you everyday, but not properly. I remember things, I remember you. But it’s like I block out all the feelings that come along with those memories. Why? Because you were my everything. Because despite everything else, all that matter was when I held you in my arms. The world could be falling apart around me, and as long as I had you; I knew I’d be okay. Because with all that love, all that happiness you brought me, I now have emptiness. It’s something so hard to describe. And tonight, it’s all coming through. All this time blocking out how I feel. And I can’t breathe. My chest feels tight. I try to take a deep breath but I physically can’t. And my heart, it hurts. It feels like something has wrapped its hands around it, and is squeezing as hard as it can. As I lay here in bed, I wonder… Do you think of me? Do you remember? Like I remember? Because when I think about you with someone else, I can’t comprehend it. I try to tell myself you are happy, and that’s what matters. All I want is what’s best for you, but it hurts so much knowing you aren’t with me. It’s my fault I know, and that’s what makes it worse.

The pillow you use to lay your head on, I still keep in my bed. Every night when I go to sleep, I place it next to me. But since it’s been so long, your scent from your pillow is gone. Just another fading memory, I’m so desperately trying to hold onto. Where are you? I hope you are well. Me? I’m not doing so great. I need you so badly, and right now I’m so alone. But I guess that’s my fault too. No one else is worth my time now you’re gone. I have nothing to say to anyone unless it’s about you. And even when I talk about you what’s the point? It can’t be fixed, and I still don’t know anyone who truly understands how I feel. My bed is empty, I’m struggling to carry on. I keep staring at the photos but they just remind me you are gone. And it’s so hard tonight, I can’t keep it all in. I don’t know where to turn, I don’t know who to talk to. I just wish you were here, I hope you know I will always love you.

2am thoughts

As I mentioned in a previous post, I moved out of my dads. It’s been quite strange at times, not having to worry about him bothering me. I’m slowly adjusting to “normal” life. Today my friends parents took me shopping. For clothes and furniture for my room. And as I looked out and saw other families, I noticed little differences. People smiling at us, the occasional chat with complete strangers in the lift. Then I sort of took a step back, and realised what we must look like to the rest of the world. The comparison between going shopping with them, and if I was with my father.

Not only is my father a lazy prick, he doesn’t smile or talk with strangers. He isn’t overly polite. He’s just arrogant and selfish, thinks he’s better than the rest. When my father and I go shopping it’s forced, he rather pay someone money to take me shopping for the things I need. And when he can’t find someone to do it and has to come with me it’s so awkward. I think people can see that. I use to walk around with him and see all those people that were in the shopping centre with their parents and think “I wonder what that’s like.” And you know what? Today I found out.

To the rest of the world we are just another happy family spending our weekend shopping. I couldn’t help but look around and smile like an idiot. In my brief moment of happiness, it crept up on me. This really isn’t my family (as much as I’d like them to be, these are the people who were friends with my mum). Do I just look like some kid they felt sorry for and decided to bring along to the shops? And then I started to analyse everything. This environment, so happy and relaxed… I felt uneasy in it. Part of me feels like I don’t belong, maybe because I’m so use to putting up with my father.

What seems to bother me the most, is instead of enjoying my new found freedom and acceptance, I’m questioning it. I’m feeling uncomfortable by it. I wonder why this is the case?

Decisions.

Sometimes it’s hard to decide what to do, or what direction to take life in. And at the current moment I am absolutely confused on what direction to take. On one hand, I continue my studies, (which can take 6-8 years to finish) or I can get a job. One of the jobs I applied for tonight (which hopefully I will get, at least I think I have a good chance of getting it) pays $120,000.00 a year. Right now I don’t know what to do, and I’m doubting every option I have. Be it working or studying. If I take this job, it means I walk away from studying and eventually establishing a career in something I am passionate about. But if I turn down this job, I am missing out on $120k a year, I can’t just walk away from that kind of money.

Rant

There’s that one moment, where you realise whether everything you have been working so hard for is either going to work or fail. I’m sure hoping this isn’t one of those moments. Now I don’t know if this is because of my current state of mind, lack of focus over the past few weeks, being over tired, being a negative nancy or the truth, but I think it’s all starting to unravel and fail. And the worse part is… I know I’m better than this. At least I think so. I don’t know anymore. But lately I can’t seem to get the strength or motivation to do anything (if my life depended on me completing my goal I have set out to do, I would go out and do all the things I want to do before I die). I don’t want to fail. I don’t want to mess this up. But I think I am. I don’t know what to do anymore. Do I press on, and fight my way through this? Or do I just fall down and fail, like I am starting to think I will. And i know everyone is waiting for my inevitable failure. I can picture where and what I want to be in the future so clearly. I was so sure I could do this, but right now it seems like someone else’s dream. It seems so murky, so far away. So foreign. I can see what I want, but the more I try and concentrate on the picture, and try and give a face to the people I see, the blurry it gets.

A day at a time…

Okay, so lately I have been thinking about how much time has gone by and how so little has changed. And how our days are limited. It sometimes frightens me to think just how quickly the years seem to go by. It starts by your days going faster, then weeks, then months and eventually years. And I guess to your average normal person the usual thought they would have would be something along the lines of “geez this year has gone awfully fast!” but see to me that isn’t what happens. Although my life hasn’t overall changed too much, my time left on this planet has. When ever I am going to die, I am getting closer to that day. And it really freaks me out to think that one day I am going to lose my conscious. That day that I die, when it happens, I will know what is happening. And I won’t be able to stop it. And by then I would of lived through the deaths of my loved ones. Friends, family pets. Only to meet the same end they and millions of those before me did. And then what? That is it. No more me. I loose conscious, I die. My body is placed in a cemetery (I hope) and will break down and decompose into nothing like everyone else. Life goes on, and I don’t exist. I will never experience this world ever again, I will never get to replay my memories in my head. It will be as if I never existed in the first place.