Bitter Disappointment

I get optimistic every now and again. I start to think that life isn't so bad, it's not so hard. I convince myself that all my issues and fuck ups are all just products of my imagination. I pretend to believe all that and sometimes it feels true.

And then life happens.

Usually what happens is that I go back home. And it's not the same as I imagined it would be in my head. 

I'm not making sense. Sorry.

I remember things in a certain way. I make them beautiful, and I latch on to those memories. Like the village where I grew up. I transformed it into some kind of wonderland and so whenever I go back there's always this vague sense of disappointment. It's like my brain is giving out to the village, like it's saying "this isn't what you're supposed to be. You're supposed to be perfect".

And obviously it's not. I mean why would it be. It's a village, a place where people live and it's changed since I lived there. But I still keep getting disappointed.

It's silly really. I'm not sure why I do it.

These days it's my parents that disappoint me. I have an image of my relationship with them, of what I used to feel with them. I used to feel safe, and loved, and cared for. I don't get that vibe from them anymore. I haven't in a while. 

My brother is my Dads favourite. My sister is my Mums. This isn't me feeling sorry for myself, this is just fact.

My Dad loves me, but doesn't seem to know how to show me, and my Mum loves me too but from the way she acts you wouldn't think it sometimes. She gives the impression that she doesn't give a shit about me. Which is a little hurtful, I'll be honest.

I come home from school, or from holidays, or whatever, and I'll get my hopes up. I'll think "maybe Dad will give me a hug. Maybe Mum will listen to me when I talk, instead of just ignoring me".

It usually takes five minutes max before I know it's not going to happen, and then I have to leave the room. Disappointment is a bitter thing, and it's hard to swallow.

Very few people have not disappointed me. I think that's why I like cats better. And Teddy bears. Velvet and Bob have yet to disappoint.

(And Tamar. I love you for that.)

Friends having babies

I am twenty years old. And this year not one, but two (TWO) of my old school friends got pregnant.

What the fucking shit.

Seriously it's madness. Like first I get a text message from Friend number one (lets call her P) and I am understandably surprised. But then not even a week later I'm told that friend number 2 (who I will call M) was also pregnant.

Guys. Stop. You're my age, you can't have kids. I am a kid.

It's times like these where I remember that, technically speaking, I am in fact a grown up. I keep forgetting that little detail. Like me? An adult? No no I'm fourteen and a baby.

So yeah. Babies. Wow.

P and M both had girls by the way. P's baby is adorable, and I haven't seen M's small child yet.

And I mean they're both very happy with their babies, and I'm very happy for them cause they're happy you know?

No one is miserable is what I mean.

It's just that I thought I had at least another ten years before I had friends who were mothers and also my age. Like this situation feels like it happened a little bit ahead of schedule.

You can't stop life from happening I guess.