She was a chatty girl. She had a certain air about her. It seemed impossible to be unhappy around her. It was almost as if she took all the negativity of a room and buried it within. But when she left, it all came back to those who she temporary relieved. When she was upset, it would cue a whole set of questions and worries for others. Pretty soon she realized she made a mistake. She had perfected the art of protecting her emotions from others so well, that they couldn’t anticipate anything but a smile from her. She wondered to herself, “when do I get to be upset?”. It seemed that people understood if she was irritated and most especially when she was happy, but if she was to shed a tear- it was inconceivable. Practically not allowed. Yet, there was a whole other side to her that she fears exposing now. It was nice to be looked up to, to be admired for having a good head on her shoulders, to be praised for her ambition. But sometimes even the strongest need a moment to break down she thought.
She laughed when other people claimed to know her, or better yet, really understand her. It was okay though, because the more they were convinced of who she was, the more she knew they haven’t even begun to scratch the surface. It’s difficult to expose yourself, to really peel the layers back for others. She wondered if people ever realized that the stories they know of her were just the stories everyone else knows. That you know just as much, not less and not more, than the next person. She carefully selected certain personal items about herself and shared them equally. She decided, people can make up their minds on what they want based off of that. But she would not take any greater chances.
She so often felt disconnected from others. Even some of her family members. It was hard for her to understand certain things, which only made her feel more like a fugitive. She guesses that’s the reason why she always tried to just blend in rather than stand out. Standing out required explanations and she just couldn’t really handle that. The things that troubled her were laughable matters to others. The others who had barely scratched the surface. She appreciated the support and respect of others, but she just wished that sometimes people wouldn’t look at her and talk to her like that. It’s not that she didn’t believe in herself. It’s that she was genuinely concerned over things like her ability to pursue her dreams. Just like every one else. Yet, others behaved as if it was much easier for her. She sometimes felt discredited, even though she knew, it was just that people really believed in her because they watched her succeed. It felt to her like people observed her situation as if she couldn’t make mistakes, as if she pushed herself too hard and took herself too seriously. She hated it when people said she took herself too seriously. She worked hard and expected results from her work. What is there not to take seriously about that? She would have to bite her tongue to not retort rudely. Then she would just stop and shake her head, reminding herself that people actually were not as invested in her and her hard work as she believes that they are. Which didn’t really make her feel any better.
She had all these little holes inside of her. She tried to fill the gaps with friendship, books, music and art. Nothing really seemed to work, it just poured over and out. Escaping like sand between the cracks of fingers. There was one though. He was like no one she had ever met before. He didn’t mind hanging around until they were all gone so he could scratch beneath the surface. So that he could understand. There were many like him before. But none that she was curious about the way she was with him. She was curious about his thoughts and she wanted to share hers with him. She wasn’t afraid of the darker thoughts and she wasn’t afraid of his smile or those marks of his past. She pushed and he pushed until they realized that no one has taken strides like this before. They pushed until they became one. And those voids became less.
There are still scars. There are still stories untold. There are still fears and anticipated dreams. This time was different though. There is time for the scars to heal. There is time for story telling. There is time to vanquish fears, together. There is still time to dream, together.
There is still time, she thought, and smiled to herself.
There are days like today, slow and hardly productive, that leave an envious sense of nostalgia for the undergraduate student I used to be. With dreams and hopes unanchored. With a relentless sense of urgency in bettering the world. With no fear of failure and an utmost sense of pride at the smallest of projects. Now that I’m older there’s more of a focus on solely myself and I can’t help but feel ashamed of the selfishness in it all. But this is the time, right? The time to be selfish.
Matt is my favorite because I can relate to him, a lot. Especially the beginning of this video.
So it’s been a while since I really had a chance to write, and I wanted to take this time to organize my thoughts.
First of all, in May, I had the opportunity of going to Europe. I was able to see family that I haven’t been around in nine years. Family is always complicated. Even if there is an ocean between us, the blood complicates a lot. I was really happy to see them and spend time with my aunts and cousins. It was rough for my mom though. There is so much stigma with her and her sisters, I don’t think they’ll ever get past whatever it is that they’re battling. Sometimes I think they all have PTSD from their childhood. While I was there, I wrote to my father about my whereabouts to see if he wanted to meet up. He was insulted by my e-mail and did not want to see me. He said I was mistaken in believing that he is over there. I don’t even have to see his eyes anymore to know when he’s lying. It really gets to me…especially because when I got back to the States, Chris proposed to me and our wedding will be next year. I really like to think that I don’t want anything to do with my dad anymore, but there’s this huge part of me that just wants to tell him. There’s nothing I can do though. I found his facebook and he posts all these old photos of me and my sister, as if we’re all still one big happy family (or ever were, really). That really frustrates me because he has barely been around for us, especially for my sister. When I think about that- my sister- I don’t want to ever see him again. There’s this huge part of me that feels guilty for having more time with him. For getting to know the good guy that he used to be, for knowing him, loving him and for the fact that she never really had the chance. Then I realize that the guilt is pointless- it’s not like he is dead, he is well and alive and if he really wanted to, he’d put the effort in. He chooses not to.
But yeah, I am getting married! It’s surreal, really. Almost five years ago I was watching a boy jump out of the back of a truck and he hasn’t left my mind since. I told my friend that day, that he was the one for me. I decided on him a long time ago. And now I’m marrying the man he turned out to be (as I’m typing this he opened a two liter with his teeth- he’s still growing! lol). I’ve always believed in him and I always will though.
On a less lighter note, my mom isn’t doing too well. I’m so far away from her and it terrifies me that something bad is going to happen and that I won’t get there in time. It’s just my sister, my mom and I. They’re all I’ve got in the U.S. It’s not fair to say that because I’m getting married and gaining a whole new family- but it’s not the same. There’s a certain kind of history the three of us have had that no one will ever understand. It’s unique in the fact that we’ve started our lives over so many times- my mom and I have lived in three countries and two nations; my sister in two countries and two nations. Not to mention how many times we’ve just moved around in our own state. Not sure if my sister really remembers all of that- but personally: I went to five different elementary schools.
Sometimes I feel selfish because I wonder, in the words of Effy Stonem: Do I ever get to be upset? Do I ever get to be anyone but me? Because, to be honest, most of the time I feel like I’m worrying so much about others and trying to make things great for every body else that most of the time I kind of forget about myself. I’m graduating in December. Will have my M.A. in English Literature. Haven’t even cracked a book related to the exam I have to take with how busy I’ve been with trying to be perfect at work, or trying to keep my family together. I was really hoping that my trip to Europe was going to be this huge thing that will have everyone realize how much people change and that there are some things that just need burying. However, it’s like, instead of everyone moving on- time pauses until we all see each other again and people feel the need to rehash old issues. Holding grudges for no reason. The more I find myself valuing family, the more mine seems to fall apart. And I can’t seem to do much about it.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m losing my mind over things I can’t control. I need my mom to be healthy. I need my sister to be happy. I need my step-dad to wake the fuck up in what’s going on around him. I need pass this exam in December. I need to get hired somewhere and do things I love. My job’s not bad, at all, but it’s not what I want or what I’ve dreamed of. I need to figure out where I’m going and what I’m doing. I need my family in Europe to be more supportive. I need my dad to apologize- especially to my sister. Chris is also lost. He’s battling this inner turmoil on his own job and if he should continue and if he doesn’t what should he do, etc. But me really having a say or an idea for him would be if he tried to give me advice for teaching Literature- it just wouldn’t make sense, he’s gotta figure out what it is he wants to do with his profession, and I need to start mine.
My head hurts from thinking about all of this. To think there’s wedding plans on top of this- it will either be a welcome distraction from the real world or kind of a pain in the ass at least this semester.
I always try to remind myself that it could be a lot worse and to appreciate everything I do have. And I do, I don’t wanna sound like a lazy asshole. I’m just currently feeling overwhelmed and just needed to vent.
There are many times when I need a chance to clear my head; and I rack my brain for days for some peace and some escape only to realize, hey I have tumblr for that. I guess I just want to thank the entire community. Even if my posts don’t get read, knowing that I have a place to write, laugh and cry…it’s a nice feeling.
I was explaining to my 4-year-old cousin that some spiders will kill their mate for food after they have babies. I thought this was gross, but she was unimpressed as she said, "humans will kill each other for no reason, at least spiders kill each other for food." I have never been more ashamed to be a human in my life