Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him, it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at lea...
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I answer a FaceTime request from Gabi as I'm walking into Harry's, only to have her hang up seconds before a text comes in.
Gabriella Brown: Didn't mean to call, in the middle of a lecture. What's up?
Me: Nothing is up. You called me, remember?
Gabriella Brown: Bitch... Hows State? What are you currently doing?
Me: Walking into Harry's to study.
Gabriella Brown: Classes have barely started. what could you possibly be studying?
Me: Let me know how it goes when you lose your scholarship...
Gabriella Brown: Have I ever told you I HATE YOU... order a chocolate shake in my honor
I haven't told Gabi about dinner at my dad's house or the disastrous ending. More time passes between our conversations these days. To fill her in on all of the drama would require me to type a novel. The kind of text that is followed by a dark cloud of guilt hanging over my head. It happens every time I trauma dump on her and pull her into all of my beefs.
It's already bad enough that when we do actually find the time to talk I usually take up a majority of our time. I'm so used to Gabi just being here though, so the need to narrate my life feels like a necessity.
It's never been this way between us. All serious conversations with nothing monotonous mixed in. We seem to only have time for the front page headlines, none of the other filler. Maybe this is what happens when you live hundreds of miles apart. I'm used to her having first hand exposure. Not getting the play by play later and being asked to give an honest opinion to something that doesn't really involve her anymore.
Alyssa did try to bring it up to me, but I quickly shot her down. I was quick to remind her not to get involved and that I'm fine. And I really think I am.
That could be why I haven't brought it up to Gabi. At this point I'm jaded when it comes to family matters. The way my father talked to me, the way I just fled and retreated. I've seen the film before and the ending never changes. It's just a play we've rehearsed and performed so many times that it doesn't really hold any weight anymore.
I wish I could be all bygones will be bygones. Sometimes I think that is the only true way for us to all move on from it all. But it still hurts to know my father's default is still to expect the worst. Any little move I make towards being something he could possibly be proud of is unworthy.
I think part of me was hoping that he would notice a difference. I voluntarily came back to his house, I made an effort to be engaged in conversation. All it got me was a reminder that I've put more energy into the atmosphere around us than he has. To him, it doesn't matter. It never has and no I'm afraid it never will.
