To Everyone I've Hated

The Count Past 18

You're the birthday boy! isn't that so nice?

We've long moved on from our tia's kitchen counter, long moved on from even the home and the family tying us to that memory, long moved on from being an anxious child anticipating the day of legal freedom

So, let me tell you a tale. We'll call this tale: "The Count Past 18". Today, you are 9 and I am 19, and here's how a full year of adulthood went:

The rest of March, 2023 was full of trust. Trust in myself, in the people around me, and in the world. The lesson of this month is not to not trust, it's to look a little closer before you trust, Because April...

April 2023 was full of bumps. Before a train crashes, it does not immediately fly off the rails, honey. It has to hit a few bumps and curves before it's thrown off the track it expected to always flawlessly follow. You think this crash is going to kill you, and you're right... partially. This version of you must die if you want to survive. Now, in May...

May 2023 was full of crawling, of begging, of your own blood on the floor. Darling, I told you a version of you needed to die to survive that crash, but you will never come out of anything completely unharmed, completely unchanged. You are halfway out of your shell and despite the cold, the unfamiliarity, and the brightness of the world you are still peeling away. How admirable is that? You know by continuing, tragedy awaits you, but tragedy isn't all that awaits you...Which is why, in June...

June 2023 was full of sparks. You're not even close to finished, but things are starting to work in your favour, and you don't even know it yet. June is a warm month, and you were just burning to kickstart things! Be patient, my baby bat. The reignited flame in front of you is still so little, blow too hard and it'll go out. Change your environment. Create a nice home for your flame. Now, onto July...

July 2023 was your breaking point. You're out of your shell! But your environment still looks a bit shaggy, doesn't it? Hold your flame close and tear down the wallpaper of home. I think it's time for some redecorating. Your fire won't thrive if the walls are water damaged and there's floods up to your knees. It's time to set the flame down and let it burn this home. It's time to rebuild your foundations. Leave it to August...

August 2023 was a forest fire. It was never your intention to burn EVERYTHING around this waterlogged home, but if it caught that easily, doesn't that mean it also had to go? Stand by your flame. It burns, but so has everything else you've experienced up to this point. You're the heart and soul of this raging attack. You'll endure it because you made it, you set it free, and you need it. More than it'll ever need you. Take charge, and move onto September...

September 2023 was full of ash. The house and the forest have burned, and now you need to throw away the waste. You're not cruel, after all...others seeing all this ash before you threw it out would make them confused. They haven't heard your tale yet. They don't understand the plot, the drive, or the resolution. You don't either, but something tells you this is right. It's time to buy the wood for a new home, but maybe I'll wait until October...

October 2023 was full of planning. You needed a stronger layout, a sounder lock, a soundproof wall. Nobody will destroy your home this time, not even the person you choose to build it with, nobody but you will know the secret to tearing this all down if needed. You hope it's not needed, because a lovely person has offered to help build with you...You didn't need help, but you wanted it, and they look perfect for the gentle job. Let's build the infrastructure on our own. Why not give it a shot in November...?

November 2023 was full of reintroductions. To yourself, to your partner, and to your new home. We needed some decoration, but we weren't in a hurry. This new building was made entirely by us, and there's no rush to cover up our hearts and handprints memorized by the floors. Nobody knows our secret little spot yet, but nothing good stays hidden forever. Unfortunately, in December...

December 2023 was full of knocks. The last person you built a home with has come knocking on our new door, shocked that you'd burn down the last one in the first place. As if they didn't neglect to wipe the floorboards, to dust the corners, to fix the drywall and to repair the roof...as if they didn't watch the foundation crumble in front of them and do nothing! Fists a-knocking on our window, and voice a-full of accusations, we shut the blinds and praised the soundproof walls. They are sour, and they won't just knock for long. Eventually, they have to leave, and they do, in January...

January 2024 was full of picking paints. The endless knocker paused us, but the world keeps turning. It's time to figure out if you and your partner's paint preferences are complimentary colours. What if not?!?! Well, that's alright. With a partner this reliable, clashing colours is a hurdle easily stepped over. The real compliment is us to each other. So, let me view that catalog in February...

Febuary 2024 was full of ruined clothes. Our chosen colours were unconventionally complimentary, and the walls hold great charm! Already this is looking bright. You've gotten much farther than you did last time, and soon it'll be time to pick out furniture. We hold no fear of clashing desires, even if we know we're not on the same page. These clashes give our new home personality. The most important part is asking if they'll stay with you here long term, but we'll wait until March...

March 2024 was full of trust. Trust in myself, and hope for the people around me, and for the world. The lesson isn't repeatedly asking if I'm going to be or not be okay. The lesson is being certain that regardless, I will always have myself, and that is priceless. Now, I have a more important question to ask in October, but...

It's my birthday. I'm 19. she just turned 9