my hands are cold, numb, as i write this. it's 29 degrees outside. supposedly feels like 22. i keep missing letters and misconstreuing sentences.
i am at home again in fort worth, with my family. actually being (and living here) has already taken much off of my mind. i have yet to spend a night in my new bed and yet feel as though i have never left. as though i never threw the basics of my belongings from my second story bedroom window and escaped to my mother's house. as though i never lived amongst strangers at the dorms in denton. as though eddie's family never welcomed my lost soul into the comfort and warmth of their guest room. i never left. and yet, here i am again...a totally new person. again.
regardless of how much my mind has been alleviated, there sits an ever present pressure upon my shoulders. how to deal with my mother tomorrow afternoon. the financial aide. the car. the car insurance. the fact (she doesn't know yet) that i flunked out my first semester of college. my decision to attend tcc next semester only by the means of my own funds. my plans to work 50+ hours a week at whatever retail job i am fortunate enough to come by.
i have gulped all of this down for a while now. held it in knowing that the time would come for truth. who knows how much of it i will care to divulge tomorrow.
and now, a story of sorts:
eddie and i, accompanied by eddie's friend ryan, attended one of my mother's parties yesterday evening. not really her party, but she planned it. she decorated the man's house. did the christmas decorations as well. my stepfather redid the interior. the floors were his. the plastered and painted walls. the wrought iron banisters. in more ways than one, it was their party. her party.
valet parking at a home? apparently much of the country club staff was employed by this shindig. the open bar and my usual down-and-out mood resulted in some serious brooding last evening and this morning.
i am at home again in fort worth, with my family. actually being (and living here) has already taken much off of my mind. i have yet to spend a night in my new bed and yet feel as though i have never left. as though i never threw the basics of my belongings from my second story bedroom window and escaped to my mother's house. as though i never lived amongst strangers at the dorms in denton. as though eddie's family never welcomed my lost soul into the comfort and warmth of their guest room. i never left. and yet, here i am again...a totally new person. again.
regardless of how much my mind has been alleviated, there sits an ever present pressure upon my shoulders. how to deal with my mother tomorrow afternoon. the financial aide. the car. the car insurance. the fact (she doesn't know yet) that i flunked out my first semester of college. my decision to attend tcc next semester only by the means of my own funds. my plans to work 50+ hours a week at whatever retail job i am fortunate enough to come by.
i have gulped all of this down for a while now. held it in knowing that the time would come for truth. who knows how much of it i will care to divulge tomorrow.
and now, a story of sorts:
eddie and i, accompanied by eddie's friend ryan, attended one of my mother's parties yesterday evening. not really her party, but she planned it. she decorated the man's house. did the christmas decorations as well. my stepfather redid the interior. the floors were his. the plastered and painted walls. the wrought iron banisters. in more ways than one, it was their party. her party.
valet parking at a home? apparently much of the country club staff was employed by this shindig. the open bar and my usual down-and-out mood resulted in some serious brooding last evening and this morning.
"brianna will be here as soon as her flight deboards,"
my mother reminded me as she took my cheap purse into the other room. i was yet another of her numerous guests. i stood amongst the arm candy. the aged gentlemen. the women with their bouffants. their western belts. their graying husbands. their botox. their designer purses. their racism. their classicism. the three of us were surpassed in youth only by a chubby eleven year old in a holiday themed sweatshirt and high-tops. he frequented the pool table.
when i was a small child, i used to worry about a variety of things. impractical and ludicrous things. the house catching fire and me never waking to the sound of the fire alarm. my parents divorce (which would eventually become reality). hidden men in the air ducts watching me sleep. the list goes on and on. what terrified me most, and to this day leaves me somewhat nauseated, was this notion, that i somehow formulated fairly early in my life, that my parents, either one or both, had secret lives tucked away somewhere else. hidden spouses and homes and children. hidden pets and clothes and nicknacks. i never saw any evidence in this fear. and i always looked.
after the divorce of my parents and especially after the remarriage of my mother, i even still did not see any evidence of a hidden or new life. it was simply that my mother wanted something new and different and greater than she had ever experienced. i was introduced to a world different than the one in which i had been raised. the differences were subtle yet profound. whispered and yet shouted at deafening volumes.
after the marriage, i was no longer one of four children, but one of five. my stepsister was everything that i was not at the age of 14. she was comfortable. her hair was lighter. her demeanour subtly more affluent. her clothes were always nicer. her grades better. her friends more numerous. her achievements greater. a better college. a more acceptable boyfriend. the list went on and on in my mind. i thought that i had come to accept this after five, nearly six years. that maybe her obviously close relationship with my mother was more of a friendship than mine was and is. maybe she was jealous of me too? maybe i was fooling myself yet again?
we were on the porch last night. eddie, ryan and i. sitting there, bathed in the warmth of the rented outdoor space heater. eddie, ever poised (how i love him so), sipping his crown and coke. i downing a vodka spritzer. "so what did you think of her? how do you like my stepsister?" i asked of ryan, who had never heard of, yet alone seen this girl two months my junior.
when i was a small child, i used to worry about a variety of things. impractical and ludicrous things. the house catching fire and me never waking to the sound of the fire alarm. my parents divorce (which would eventually become reality). hidden men in the air ducts watching me sleep. the list goes on and on. what terrified me most, and to this day leaves me somewhat nauseated, was this notion, that i somehow formulated fairly early in my life, that my parents, either one or both, had secret lives tucked away somewhere else. hidden spouses and homes and children. hidden pets and clothes and nicknacks. i never saw any evidence in this fear. and i always looked.
after the divorce of my parents and especially after the remarriage of my mother, i even still did not see any evidence of a hidden or new life. it was simply that my mother wanted something new and different and greater than she had ever experienced. i was introduced to a world different than the one in which i had been raised. the differences were subtle yet profound. whispered and yet shouted at deafening volumes.
after the marriage, i was no longer one of four children, but one of five. my stepsister was everything that i was not at the age of 14. she was comfortable. her hair was lighter. her demeanour subtly more affluent. her clothes were always nicer. her grades better. her friends more numerous. her achievements greater. a better college. a more acceptable boyfriend. the list went on and on in my mind. i thought that i had come to accept this after five, nearly six years. that maybe her obviously close relationship with my mother was more of a friendship than mine was and is. maybe she was jealous of me too? maybe i was fooling myself yet again?
we were on the porch last night. eddie, ryan and i. sitting there, bathed in the warmth of the rented outdoor space heater. eddie, ever poised (how i love him so), sipping his crown and coke. i downing a vodka spritzer. "so what did you think of her? how do you like my stepsister?" i asked of ryan, who had never heard of, yet alone seen this girl two months my junior.
"she's the daughter your mother never had."
