Tears

April 28, 2021

         I can't talk about the bad things anymore, I'll talk about it, but to rewind the memories, go into exact details, it's like revisiting them again. After all, I'm such a good writer ;)

But I have to, to let it out.

Wednesday, part 1 with Mom:  A wonderful day with Mamma in the morning. We talked and laughed. Laughed like Crazy! We played this new game that Simon made for my birthday. (Just about a week ago, it was my birthday, I'm fourteen now.)
My brother is so creative and awesome. 

Wednesday, part 2 with Dad: At dad's house, he had his usual fitness workout he had to teach through Zoom... Simon and I during that time were on the computer, he was doing his homework and I was rewatching some Miraculous episodes that I wanted to revisit. We then went to his work and stayed there for about an hour, playing, listening to music, exercising, singing, watching T.V cable and doing some mischief ... as always.

We then went to Mariano's, dad went inside to get some groceries as Simon.and I listened to the radio in the car.

We then, at home, made pizza and ate it... But this is the part that gets on my nerves.

This gets my dad crazy, and the fact that my dad thinks it's okay for him to get crazy is even worse.

I'm wearing a nice blouse, you can either wear it off the shoulders or covering them. Before dinner, I wore it covering my shoulders, to play with more ease. But then I pulled it down. My dad, when we sat down, he was going to say something but his eyes zapped to me, noticing something different about me.

I felt defensive as he looked at me in disgust but kept his fake smile on all the while.

"Why are you wearing your shirt like that?" 

"Oh, that's how it's supposed to be," I answer, dismissively.

"But it wasn't how it was before," he answers, smiling his fake, DISGUSTING smile.

"You can wear it either way," I answer, smiling back, trying to get back to actually eating.

"Oh, well, I'd prefer if you wore it the other way," 

I stop smiling, he has no right. 

I continue to wear it the way it is, but he asks again; his smile about to break from how hard his teeth are clenching. I sigh and then pull it back up and look ahead at Simon.
Mad, at the fact that I don't even have a right to wear MY CLOTHES THE WAY I WANT TO.
It's unacceptable.

I can't wear what I want in my own home, am I distracting him?!?!?!?!

His statement is so sexist.

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As we ate dinner; nothing really happens.

Until.... Simon stood up to do something, I wasn't really watching, he probably just got up to get some water or something. I was looking at my plate as I ate, and when Simon sat down again, he scooted his chair in. His chair then bumped into the table, moving the table just a bit.

Simon, already in a funny mood, laughs a bit.

But before Simon can say anything or apologize, dad butts in angrily, "Excuse me?!" dad says. Simon doesn't answer, his eyebrows stuck in confusion as he warily looks at his dad.

"What do you say...?" There is a bit of a silence and then Simon answers.

"...Sorry...?"

" 'Sorry', " dad mocks, "I don't understand how you don't know why you're saying sorry," he states, "Why are you confused?"