for_that_summer (for_that_summer) wrote,
for_that_summer
for_that_summer

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growing and loving my own way

Dear friend,
     Sorry for the lack of updates but I'm sure from where you are, you see how I'm doing. I have a mix of things going on and I guess I finally want to talk about it with you.
     Should we start on the bad side of things? I don't know, I'm not really sure if I have the right to complain. Well, let me explain a bit about the conversation I had with my mom just a while ago. She told me that, after a while of believing that Sabrina was doing extremely well in school, she finds out that my sister is actually failing. Not that serious of an issue but what got me was her voice. 

She was on the verge of crying. She was hurt.

     She was hurt that she was being lied to and afraid of where all of this - Sabrina, her grades, her attitude - was leading to. The conversation, of course, made its way to my brother and me. She brought up how her friends are proud of their kids and their diplomas and how she couldn't be yet. My brother is going to be in his mid to late twenties this year and she has no diploma to post up on her wall... until I graduate. I told her that I promise to do my best and get it for her, knowing it will give her a little peace of mind. But at the same time I can't help but feel like I'm tired of promising. Let's face it, for my mom - even my dad - I'm branded as some kind of golden child. I'm the one that's going to a university, pursuing a degree in engineering, and bringing home that piece of paper that tells her I did it and can make bank. I mean, they know I'm not perfect, especially personality wise, but she's depending on me as the one that will make her feel the same way her friends feel about their kids.

And depending on me like I'm her best friend.

     I have no problem saying I'm friends with her. I love her. I feel like I could tell her just about anything (the exception being particular romantic moments). And I'm also glad to know that she could talk to me about anything, too. I'm happy that she tells me everything, bad and good. But I kind of wish that my siblings could do the same. It's not all them, I know that my mom isn't the easiest person to get along with. But if they, especially Sabrina, could just see that she is not the enemy, things could be better. Because they do, however, I have to hear mom cry over the phone and wait until the weekend I go home to actually help.
     Many times, though, I wish I wouldn't have to go home because when I'm there, it's like I have to grow up faster than I'd like. I have to understand what my mom is going through, I have to be sensitive towards Sabrina, I have to talk carefully around my brother. Here in LA, I can be young, impulsive, and, on some rare occasions, stupid. I used to like thinking I'm more adult than most but I've come to find comfort in simply being a kid in college. It's better than being a kid in what is still a broken home.

Okay, I'm done with the "bleh" part. Let's move on.

     I had been seeing him for nearly four months and though that is not quite long, I told him. After beating myself up for how I felt, I covered his mouth, said those three words, and made him promise that he wouldn't say them back after I removed my hand from his lips. I did, however, hear an "awww".
     It wasn't ideal, I know. But I'm glad it's out there. I don't plan on saying it again. I'm not expecting him to say it soon, though I do imagine what it would be like to hear it from him. I just knew how I felt and I wanted him to know.
     He makes me happy. And I'm not doing the whole "bad times shouldn't shadow the good" sort of deal but actually happy. Being with him, there's no reason to cry. He doesn't need me to change - though we both agreed I should get healthier, you know, eat and exercise, etc - and I don't need him to, either. And I care deeply. How much I care is as much as I do for my closest family and friends who I do love though I never say it. 

     Ooph, I don't want to talk about it too much. It would be tragic if it ended up not working out and I had some essay about it that would only take me down memory lane. I'll leave you here.

Missing you like always,
                                         Alyssa

 

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