@coeurcorazon9949

1 year ago

I'm leaving home a little before next year's Christmas, I think. . and no one knows. I love my mom and I love my dad. I also love my two brothers. Life's been hard. For me and my family. Lost my brother too young, fell into self-harm habits and eating disorders by age 11. Didn't see any hope of recovery until 15. I've always felt so alone. My parents aren't the best but they're trying, at least. They made mistakes, sure, but they're good people. Although my grandparents lived in the same house as us since birth, they were only a part of my childhood. My abuelo (grandfather) and I haven't really spoken since I was 12 or so and my abuela (grandmother) and I have a bad relationship. I'm "too messy, not lady-like enough, first chance I get I'll do bad, I'm not capable of putting commitment into something, I don't know what the real world is like" according to her. But I do know what the real world is like. I've known since I was a child. I can commit. My living situation has been hard. The only person I can say is good and true in this family is my twin brother. He says this isn't a family, it's just alliances among people forced to live together. Which is true. My grandparents dislike each other, my parents dislike my abuela, my dad dislikes both my abuela and abuelo, my parents favourite the youngest, the youngest favourites my twin, my twin and I favourite each other and my parents favourite each other. We've always been alone. We've never been able to talk about our sorrows to anyone. And my twin and I didn't have a real relationship until age 13 so I went through so much at so young all alone. And on top of that, I've always been the joke of the family. The artist in a house full of logical and politically-inclined people. It's frowned upon not to be interested in politics or laugh at mean jokes. So I was always made fun of. "You're so soft, you're so politically correct, you're so sensitive!" and picked at as the stupid one. And just today my abuela was shaming me for dropping piano so long ago. When I told her I was learning bass, she told me she doesn't believe in me and that I'll quit. Because that's what I do, she said. I quit. But i don't. I've been writing for around 6 years now nonstop and it's my passion. I've never quit, not even when my mother told me I wasn't talented enough to ever do anything with it when I was 12. My abuela tried to talk bad about me to my boyfriend and disliked me for having one in the first place. She said I'll probably do bad things if left alone. I won't. And she tells me no man will love me because I can't cook and don't have the cleanest room as a woman. She says I dress too boyish and I should wear heels instead. But to be fair, I'm not the nicest either. At 15 I got a second piercing just because I know she was against it. Just to set her off. Extremely petty but I like how it looks so I guess it turned out for the best. Since I was really young I've dreamed of running away. I remember being like 12 and packing my bag at night just to shove it in my closet and go to sleep, just dreaming of the day I'll get to escape. I began writing because it helped me escape. I love my mom and I love my dad and I love my brothers. I even love my grandparents. But I love the thought of a melancholy, lonely Christmas alone in an empty apartment more. Plus, my twin is going off to military college. There's nothing left for me at home and I hate this city. So, with great sadness, I prepare for the departure I've been planning for years and saving up for since I was 14. I'll take a gap year and use that to get myself settled. Then I'll go to university and build a life for myself. It's sad, it's lonely and the thought makes my heart a little sore but this is what I truly desire. It's what I've wished for since I was a child. Not once has there been any other option. I love you mom, dad, Adrian, David, Abuela, Abuelo. And you too, Nacho. You're the best beagle and the goodest boy. But I'll be leaving soon and I'm not coming home.

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