A robot

Not even a person

As the time gets closer to my CPA exam and the wedding I have barely found any time to write at all. Sadly.

I’m a person of simple means that doesn’t require much to please. However, my simple request have been met with such hostility that I feel foolish and small. All I wanted was a cake at my wedding, but for some strange reason I cannot have one. All I wanted was to be able to be prepared by a certain date but for some reason everyone else’s desires come before mine. Am I not the one getting married here? If you didn’t want to give me the attention to begin with then don’t make a wedding I didn’t ask for. But one thing I didn’t want is giving me the option and then taking away my right to have an opinion. It’s my wedding. I get the say on what dress I want to wear. I shouldn’t be cornered and demanded to wear something I do not want. I shouldn’t have to wait three weeks to buy what I need and then forced to take off from work because you couldn’t manage to find any time during the three weeks I told you I was available. Just like it’s not up to you if I want to have surgery now or later. It’s my life, my body, my time. Or at least that is what I thought.

How wrong we can be. How foolish I am to think people who are supposed to matter will actually care. I thought I was smart. I thought this would make things change. Wrong again. Doesn’t seem like I can ever get it right. I guess it is good that I am going away, far away. With no plans to come back so soon. I doubt I will be summoned. Part of me wishes they’d want me back but the gut inside me knows it’s short term and will not last. It is false. The attention is filled with air and as soon as the outsiders leave the room that beautiful picture pops and I am in rags, emotionally and physically. I don’t know why or what it will take to change these things. They say distance, but I doubt the distance across the globe and back infinity times will ever mend the shattered feelings inside me. This time was it all. I’ve waited and built up to this moment yet somehow I wake up with nightmares that sadly, will come true, of what a beautiful day would have looked like only to be destroyed in every way. No one caring or looking at me. No one realizing the stress, anxiety, happiness, rush of emotions to help me get through it. Me being humiliated because no one thought twice of the person it is all supposed to be about.

I used to say I would do anything to change these feelings, to put in everything I have just to be an equal. I have. Now I know that no matter what I put in I will never get there. Do I succumb to their desires and leave my feelings locked away, to cry in a place all alone surrounded by imaginary beautiful moments that I slowly watch shatter? Or do I not care and dig their fight deeper, show them no respect and continue onwards? Either way I lose. But somehow one way will make everyone else happy. Do I do that? I am not that person. I don’t need to make you happy to be happy. I am happy alone and if you wish to join my happy circle you must have the ability to respect me. Me. Not you. It shouldn’t be too hard yet I am pained watching how many people are failing. I should not even give myself the ability to get hurt anymore, you would think I would be numb by now. Somehow when I became a person again I realized my emotions are what enhanced me and my opinions brought me to life. However, it seems that those around me prefer I be a backdrop in life. Void of emotions, expressions, opinions, feelings, and desires. A robot to follow their every needs. Someone to complete someone else’s picture. Don’t ask them about my own because no one would even know what you are talking about.

Your Editor

A broken connection

I guess birth isn’t a strong enough connection

I don’t know what it is, actually I do, I just wish it weren’t true.

Why is it that a parents dislikes the child they are most alike to? It pains me that every time I say tomatoes she is adamant that I am wrong and really it’s potatoes. It’s like there’s not even a slight iota of a chance that I am ever right or that I can ever have my own opinion. If she thinks it’s pretty, it’s pretty. There’s no room to question, think, express. It’s, to be honest, repressing.

And also, sad.

It pains me to see her rushing to help, chat with, laugh with others and yet when I try and carry a conversation it goes flat so fast it was as if I never even spoke. I feel bad too because my better half gets a lot of heat from them as well. I know there’s something against me but I just wish they wouldn’t take it out on him. I know they think little to nothing of me but he shouldn’t be included in that.

if only it could be a world of tomatoes and potatoes.

Your Editor