A Year Of Hope

And then November came around.

This meant Christmas time had officially begun for Jane. She set up the Christmas tree in the living room on November 1st, and she would only stand to listen to to Christmas music until December 26th.

This also meant Jane and I signed up for classes. Before, Jane when Jane was triple majoring, she had decided psychology was her calling, so she mostly took psychology courses. But especially now, she decided maybe psychology wasn't her best course of action.

"How the fuck at I gonna helped people with their mental health issues when I'm a fucking disaster," she had said.

Her and I were both English majors, with an emphasis in creative writing, and minoring in Secondary education. Her and I had both completed our general education courses, which meant we could focus on our major courses, so her and I aligned it that we took all the same courses.

We chose Survey of British Literature, Intro to Education, Teen Literature, and the one I was most excited for was Intro to Creative Writing.

And so it was really happening. I was officially a college student once again. I had sent a notice into work that I would need to cut my hours to 30 and I would need mostly evening shifts starting January, which they were more than willing to accommodate.

And then it close to Thanksgiving and we began discussing plans. Sam would be going up to Ohio to spend it with her family.

"I'm going to Houston to see my dad," Jane said, a twinge of annoyance in your voice.

"Your dad? Jane I thought you hated him?" Sam said, and I came to realize Jane never talked about her family life.

"I fucking do, but he told me he has liver cancer. Not surprised, man drinks straight moonshine. But he already saw my siblings, so I agreed I would see him incase this is the last chance I get."

"Damn, I'm sorry Jane," I said.

"Don't be. I'll be honest, I don't really want to see him. I feel obligated to see him though. What about you Cai? Seeing family."

I never talked about my family, mostly because there was not much to talk about. My parents didn't mean to have me. They had made precautions to never have kids, and yet here I was. And they resented me. They didn't abuse me, and made sure my needs were met, and basically let me do whatever I wanted. But they never acted as parents should. They practically ignored me unless they absolutely necessary to interact with me. They never did things like go on days out with their kid, or celebrate my birthday or holidays with me, and if they went on vacation, they called me a nanny. 

It was awkward situation for me, but I almost thought it to be normal. That was until 8th grade when I found out people actually spent time with their parents, and they actually had a bond with their parents, their parents would be excited when they hit mile stones. Some asked if I was a Jehovah's Witness when they heard we didn't celebrate birthdays or holidays.

The awkwardness became unbearable. I had been working since I was 16, and I saved all my money, and then when I was 18, right after I graduated high school, I began looking for apartments, until one allowed me to rent. Many were hesitant on account for age, but when the last one saw I had over $15,000 in my bank account. Then I announced to my parents I was moving out, my parents simply looked at me for a moment before continuing about their business. When I moved out they never tried to reach out to me, and I never tried to reach out to them, and it had been that way ever since.

"My family resents me being born, so I do not have a relationship with them. I'll be spending thanksgiving alone," I stated.