I don't feel like i belong. Not really. I never have. And honesty i don't think i ever will. And it sucks. And the feeling isn't really unjust. From the time i was four i felt out of place, even with my own family. I know it's silly and this probably sounds like a moody teen tryin to be #relatable but it isn't. And maybe it is, but, at least to me, it isn't. Let's start at the beginning. Or at least the beinin that i remember. I was four and it was an early morning one day, near the start of september, my first day of school. I was so happy to go i started dancing on the bed, i couldn't wait, but on my sister's first day of they both dreaded it. My joy made me feel different. But i thought that was a good thing. And i know what you're probably thinking, "So what? This isn't important" but this is my story, no, this is my life and i decide what's important.
Then when i was six me and my sisters went in to dance and my grandma made us take ballet as well as what other dances we wanted. Her and my mom started fighting and my sisters both hated the idea but for me... I was happy. I loved the idea. Not because i had the stereotypical dream that most other little girls had to be a ballerina, but because i wanted to know more, i wanted to learn everything i could. I was six years old and i begged until i was aloud to be in jazz, hip hop, and ballet. That was until we got in the car to go to bc for a week without my dad. When i turned to look out the window and waved at my dad, little did i know i was waving goodbye to my apple pie life that i had just gotten, not even four years ago. And ya, i know that sounds melodramatic, but maybe if i would've asked my dad to come one more time, i wouldn't have had my life flipped upside down that winter.
The car caught fire in a walmart parking lot. The one that took us to BC. it was scary and we were stranded. But my mom ha a friend named CJ who lived in BC and he said we could crash there. And my mom said yes. And i like to think that she didn't know that those three letters, that one word, would change my life so much. Yet part of me will always think she did. So if you're still here, still reading, then let me continue sounding like a moody teen going through their emo phase. I don't remember much about the months i lived there, with my mom, sisters, and Cj, all i know is what i've been told. So i am going to tell you two sides of this story, and you can chose what side you believe. And as you will see, the are very different.
Moms- we got stranded, we had no way to get back to alberta, let alone stettler. We had no choice and no where else to go. So we would stay with CJ till we could get back. And it was harmless. Really, they were just good friends who went way back. And i don't remember much, as i've already said but i do remember hours upon hours of playing hide and go seek. The places i could hide back then, in the draw under the stove, in the dryer, which i got in trouble for the dryer, and i could hide in cupboards. It was nice but it wasn't the life i wanted. I wanted my dad. But he never called for me. He never tried to get us home, and he was cheating on my mom with his friend kayla. I was so sad because i missed him, but CJ was okay, even if he was way too tall and had no teeth.
Dads- he could get my grandma and grandpa to drive to BC and pick us up, we had a choice. We could have gone home in less than a week. He missed me and my sisters. But he also missed my mom. He thought she was cheating on him with CJ and he went to kayla, and no, he didn't go to her to hurt my mom, he didn't do anything with her other than talk and work. He was faithful. He called everyday, but i was always busy, or didn't want to talk. He missed me and he felt so alone and isolated in the house we called home. He left our room just how it was, he dusted tho. And when he did he was reminded that we were gone all over again.
Now, you can believe whomever you want, but personally, i want to believe my dad. It sounds like part of a movie that way. Now, i'm not being bias, because i think they are both twisting and bending the truth to fit their own needs. But that's what everyone in my life does, as you will soon read.
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Ramblings of a Mad Man
Randomthis is the story about just another over emotional teen, or as others would say, this is the story of my life.