Love. Love is so illogical. Why would I bet on someone staying with me? The odds are stacked against me, and the price is being broken. I fought it for so long. Never let anyone in. Never gave anyone a chance. Never thought it was worth it.
Here I am meeting Captain. My hands shake, and I can't trust my own voice to hold out for me. He reaches for my face and pulls me in...
I hear the door open before my mom even says good morning. It startles me every time, but I'm glad that she ended my dream before it went any further.
I don't want to get up. I don't want to hear my step dad. I don't want to deal with him attempting to assert his dominance over everything in the house, especially me. I understand that he's ticked off because it's so blatantly obvious that I'm not his. I get that he's jealous that my mom and I have a special connection. I look like her, I think like her, I act like her. Sometimes I think that's why he doesn't like me. Well, I shouldn't say that. I know he loves me, and helps provide. He insists that I call him dad, because he feels like I gave him the opportunity to be. But my half sister, she's the angel child. Don't get me wrong, she's a little demon child sometimes I swear. She just can do no wrong in my step dad's eyes. They're both the youngest. He understands how the older child always provokes the younger. He always takes her side, even when he doesn't know what's going on. She's his.
I never meant to get caught up in this hell. I haven't ever known anything different. My parents divorced when I was two. They've grown a lot since then. My life is forever altered by the choices they have made. I don't mind, I love all my family. I just don't know how much longer I can handle getting ripped away twice a week.
My other little sister grabs my legs and cries, "sissy, don't go. I want you to stay with us. I love you. Please don't go!"
I take a deep breath and feel the pain eating away at me. I give her a kiss on the head, and peel her off. Then I turn around and walk away. Breaks my heart. Every. Single. Time.
In elementary school, I decided love was too big of a risk. There was so much pressure to not be the next one to mess it up. Not like we always have control. There was nothing my grandma could do to stop my grandpa from up and leaving. If I couldn't control it, I'd take things into my own hands. I would remain single. My whole life. That was the plan at least. It sounded so good in theory too. I couldn't make it last though.
I realized my desire and skill for being a mom. I also realized that I couldn't make it on my own. Support myself? Heck yeah. I didn't need anybody to help me do anything. But sleeping alone every night? Wanting to fall into someone's arms? Wanting to rest on someone else when I felt so exhausted that I couldn't stand anymore on my own? Those are things I just couldn't provide myself.
About the same time I was going through this process of reorganizing my life and world view and priorities and goals, I met Captain. We clicked and it was great. We were friends. Just friends. Just friends who wanted more. Just friends who wanted more but didn't know what to do because they weren't supposed to want or because they wanted other things as well.
Smiles and I got back together. Our relationship was constantly shaky, but it was growing. It was good. People were annoyed with me. Told me I should just leave her. But they didn't understand. Smiles and I will never go down. We need each other. There is an unspoken agreement between us that no one will judge. We say what we want. We aren't afraid around each other. We support each other. Even when we go through hard times. We could never really be separated. No one else will get it. I know. I get crap for it a lot. Even for a time I gave myself crap for it. But I know we will always be us.
These thoughts run through my head all day. My brain never shuts down. Won't ever shut up. Mr.Banana's is trying to give what is ,I'm sure, a thrilling history lesson, but I can't hear a thing.
Then the memories start pouring in. I try to make it stop but it's too late. I'm in third grade. We're in the pod behind the classroom. The lights go off. He grabs me. I can't tell which one of them it is. I kick back. The lights go back on. I'm at home with my dad. He's chasing me. He pins me down to tickle me. I know it's fun and games, but I can't move. He's pinned me down underneath him and my tiny arms can't fight back. Not yet. My father would try it again now, after rough housing with my little brother and sister. He'd wrestle me. Pin me down on the bed, and I'd elbow him across the jaw. He'd get my arms down, and I'd head butt him. That's when he decided this wasn't a fun game to play any more.
I snap myself back into reality. How am I not more messed up? I grew up to rough parents on the rough side of town. Now we live in nice middle class suburbs and my parents have good jobs and I excel academically. You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but south side runs in the blood. People think I'm quiet, a natural leader. I know the truth though, the truth is that I'm a fighter. I'm not afraid of anybody. I'll take you.
The bell rings and I head to lunch still trying to clear my head. Pointe comes to talk to me, "Hey, Frosty! You've got a nice face," she says as she sits in my lap and pets the side of my face. I give her a look that clearly states what on earth are you doing?
"Umm thanks," I reply. Pointe is like that. She touches everybody and it isn't even weird.
The rest of the school day goes by as usual. Not indecent, but not exceptional. The last bell rings and I grab my bag and leave the classroom. I feel Hats before I see him. He's jogged a little to catch up and walk next to me. His arm brushing mine as we go. It's a crowded hallway, but not that crowded. I don't mind his shoulder touching mine every now and then though. He suddenly sees one of his friends and runs to talk to them.
I continue to leave campus on my own, finding is actions somewhat odd. Whatever. I just keep invisibly striding through the herd of students until I reach my truck.
After I get home and drop off my bags I attempt to start on my homework. Captain is making it challenging by texting me. I can't help myself, if he wants to talk to me I'm there. My mind rushes with thoughts of him when I should be working on my Economics project. I drift my way through the evening zoning in and out. Thinking about Captain, thinking about Smiles, thinking about homework, and dance, and my family.
When I finally get to bed it's the same as every other night. I lie there too tired to fall asleep with a mind running too hard to produce thought. I used to cry, but now I just lie there numb.
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Insomniac Party
RomanceSome of our best thoughts come when we feel like we can't think