I wonder if I ever told anyone how much I hate fighting? Or do I usually keep that a secret too? I don't know anymore. I had a fight with my mother tonight... said some things I've been keeping in for a long time. I've been bouncing around the house with pigtails all day being happy, since, you know, exams are over. I guess that gave her enough of an excuse to treat me like a little girl.
Then again, I've been sad all day... and hiding it well too. The concert was tonight... the one I was going to go to, the one I was all ready to go to. I was. My friends are going. My cousin's going. Heck, by now, they've already gone. And once again I'm sitting at home again with nothing better to do than argue with my mother.
It started out simple enough. Dinner, my sister's Quebec trip. Then she went on the same-old argument you hear every parent go on at one point in time or another. How I'm not responsible enough to go out with my friends, how she's a better parent because she doesn't let her daughters out on the street to be picked up and killed like Holly Jones.
Then I got up and left. And when she yelled at me for walking, I told her that I didn't see why I should bother. And I mean it. I don't <i>tell</i> my mother things. Why should I? Every time I have a talk with her, I've ended up more upset than I was before. It has never, never resolved things. You've noticed it too, haven't you? I know Steph has. I tend to stay quieter than the rest of you, I tend to listen more than I talk. I don't talk well.
Anyway, I think what I say is true. Besides, though I'm sure I'm only wallowing in my own teenage angst and making a pitiful ass out of myself, I don't really care. Then again, no matter how much I want to 'prove myself', what's there to prove? I can think up a hundred examples. Heck, I've done it in the past. It doesn't matter. They give me the same answer. Always. "I don't care about those other people you know. All I care about is that you do better than them."
'Those people'. Not even 'your friends'. They don't want to acknowledge any of you... that I've got other people besides the ones they approve of. And the ones they approve of, are part of our own extended family. Doesn't leave me much choice, huh?
And they wonder why I don't want to stay at home once I go to University. Because they suck at promises. I have spent the past ten years wanting to do something, and always waiting for some future date that is always being pushed back to be able to do it. I want to drive, damn it! But everytime I ask, it's always, "maybe later". I'm sick of "maybe later". I'm sick of doing the best I can and always coming up short to my little sister. I'm sick of pretending to be happy all the time. I'm sick of always holing myself up in one corner of my room or another crying my eyes out because of them.
Oh heck with it. I sound pathetic even to myself.