October 23rd, 2005
|adiktid2muzic||03:08 am - nothing pays off.|
i've always been a good kid. i never did drugs. i never drank alcohol. i pray.
in elementary school i was nice to everyone. i never bullied anyone around. i never cheated off of anyone's tests. i was respectful to my teachers. i gave people money if they needed it. i gave people my lunch if they wanted it. i would sometimes sneak extra into my lunch box for them.
when i came home; i did my homework. i ignored my sister yelling at my mother. i cleaned my room. i always ate dinner, even if i didn't like it.
i welcomed my dad with open arms when he returned home after months, even if i hated him for it. i dressed like a boy. i had more scars than skirts. i played sports because i believed it would make my dad happier with me. i thought maybe if he saw how good i was at basketball or baseball, he might be proud enough to stay for good this time.
i would sleep in my mothers room when she cried; but i would secretly block my ears so that i couldn't hear her crying, and hide my face in the pillow so that she couldn't ear me crying with her.
sometimes if my mom got called to go into work at 2 in the morning, and i woke up to see that her car was gone, i would have an unbelievably bad stomach ache until she returned. sometimes i would wonder if she didn't really get called in; maybe she had left, too.
one time, she went touring in Israel for 2 weeks with some people from church. i didn't sleep for those 2 weeks. i couldn't focus in school. and i threw up every morning. i was 10.
i went through my moms CD's one night when i was 7, and discovered music. i started to understand things. i hated taking my headphones off.
the first time my sister attempted suicide, and we drove her to the hospital, i had to sit in the back seat with her and hold down her arms, while my mother kept her hand on "lock" on the car door. she was going to jump if we let her.
i hated inviting people over my house when she was home, because i didn't know if she was going to cause a scene, embarrass me, or try something on herself.
the night before i left for France, my mom had to drive her to the hospital again. i packed my clothes alone.
there was one thing i learned for sure growing up. and that was that distance between two people can be the worst thing someone can experience. i saw it with my dad. i saw it with my sister. i saw it with my mom. i see it now.
i've always been a good kid. and i've always tried my hardest. i never did drugs. i never drank alcohol. and i pray every night. i used to see where all of that payed off. but it's fading. i don't want to sneak extra in my lunch box anymore. i don't want to eat my dinner if i don't like it. and i fucking hate sports. one things for sure, though. my hands are still blocking my ears. and my face is still hiding in the pillow. because i still get those stomach aches, and i still throw up when i hear myself cry.
|Date:||December 15th, 2005 12:33 pm (UTC)|| |
"you always tried, but it was always for someone else."
well, you probably realised :)
all the best, anyway.