You're taking everything away from me. I gave up everything for track. I gave up my grades. I gave up the star, the only pride in my life, taekwondo. I gave up hanging out with people. I gave up fake semblances of happiness, for true happiness. I swear, there is no better feeling than what you feel after you run. And the people I've met/gotten closer through track. Are you really going to drag that away from me? Are you going to take away the only source of happiness I had this term?
You told me that I had a problem with track meets and prep classes coinciding. Fucking tell me outright that you expect me to quit track. I can't stand you coating everything with this layer of "you should know already". Be blunt sometimes. You have nothing to lose. I hate you enough already.
I'm already trying to be perfect in your eyes, but goddamm it, you make it so hard. You don't understand me. You don't understand how I'm simply not happy anymore. I find myself running upstairs to cry into my pillow. I haven't done that in ages. I haven't done that since I was 10. You're forcing me to be this ideal trophy daughter. I'm NOT. I'm sick of you bragging to everyone that I am a Student Ambassador. I'm sick of you telling everyone that I'm a black belt in taekwondo (which thanks to you, I can no longer attend). I'm sick of you at my back for everything. I'M NOT STUPID. I have my own goals. I can't stand you ripping apart each one of my goals and telling me exactly what I need to acheive to fulfill my goals. THEY'RE MY GOALS. If you tell me what to do, I'm going to immediately give it up. You don't even know my goals anymore. Do you know how long it took you to realize that I liked Humanties. And you going all, you're excellent at Social Studies, after I tell you. I wonder how long it'll take you this time to realize I want to go to Brown and major in either Anthropology, Sociobiology, or Zoology.
You told me that as soon as I turn 18, I'm out of the house. Good riddence. I don't care. You wonder why I don't want to go to Columbia, and I'm losing my interest in Cornell. I want to get the hell away from you. From all your concerns, your love. Your love for me is what's fucking suffocating me to death.
You think I like staying up past 1 o'clock every night? You think I like getting these bruises on my knees and my wrists? You think I like having to hold everything in to hide from you? You constantly tell me I shouldn't be interested in anime anymore. Bullshit. Anime's just an alternate universe in which I can immerse myself in it and try to mask some farce of indifference.
I swear, track was the only thing holding me up this semester. My grades have shot up considerably this term, and its all because I want to do hurdles. I want to sprint. I want to do pole vault. If you take that away from me, I'm going to do what I told you. I'm not coming home. I'm not associating myself with you. I'll find something else to keep me coming home early. Find. Label this as some bratty complain, but hell, I will follow through with this.
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1 comment:
tiff, don't give up! you're AMAZING -- not only as a friend, but as a person in general. try not to cave in under the pressure, even though i know that's really hard to do at times.
parents always claim that they want what's best for us, but they never listen to what WE want. being a trophy daughter gets tiring - perfect grades, perfect extracurriculars, even perfect FRIENDS and RELATIONSHIPS - sometimes it really does feel like it's all too much. i was never allowed the chance to pursue my own goals, which is probably why even now, i don't try to fight the system. because my parents knew that once i got a taste of happiness, of FREEDOM, that i would try to go against their overbearing well, dictatorship.
but YOU, you know exactly what you want out of life, so by all means, GO FOR IT! fight the system, because i know that you have the willpower, the intelligence, the sheer AUDACITY, to succeed.
stick to your goals, and you know that we'll always be right here behind you if you ever need any help =)
~ glorified underwear
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