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Encounter 1 at work:
Me: Anything else I can get for you?
Customer: *hopefully* your phone number?
Me: What?
Customer: Forget it. I was teasing you. You probably have a man already.
Me: merrgh.
Encounter 2 at work:
Customer: (who is a regular, might I add, and has therefore seen me before): *double take* Holy—when did you start wearing glasses?
Me: *pause* Approximately five years ago.
Customer: Damn, I never noticed! You look gorgeous in them!
Me: …thanks?
Encounter with my father:
Me: *slings purse diagonally across chest*
Dad: *pauses* Rachel, move your purse.
Me: *confused* Why?
Dad: Well, you know how some girls have bras that separate and lift?
Me: Erm?
Dad: *annoyed*: You don’t need one of those because you have your purse!
Me: *looks down, then arches eyebrow at Dad*: No one looks at my chest, Dad.
Dad: Yes, they do. And as your father, it is my duty to stop them all from looking. So move your purse.
Me. o.O
So. I see my mother today at work (will miracles never cease?) and we talked for a moment. I told her about my 300 dollar QaF fiasco and the first thing she does is tell me to send them back, although I haven’t even received them yet.(she did, however, have a point, so I will not buy that absolutely lovely folio edition of Milton’s Pardise Lost with the illustrations by William Blake. ^^;:;;)
I say whatever, and ask her to bring in the Fuckwit for a moment, because I actually needed to talk to It. And the first thing he asks is what thing did I spend 300 dollars this time? (The first and only other time was when I bought the FFX replica of Yuna’s necklace.) I told him, and he’s like, another useless thing, as usual.
Why does everything I spend money on end up being ‘useless’? Just because it isn’t going to be worth a million dollars in three years, it’s useless? What about sentimental value? Or what about the simple fact that I might buy something because it makes me feel good? It reminds me of the time when I was a child, and my father had given me a gift certificate of $20 dollars to use at a comic book store. (when you could still buy like, 15 comics for 20 dollars…) and the Fuckwit promptly usurped the certificate and bought me things that ‘would be worth something one day, and that I wasn’t allowed to touch. Finally, with the remainder of the certificate, he decides to allow me to buy something. I looked around for a bit and decided on this obscure thing that looked kind of interesting, and he gave me such a look of disgust. It made me feel dirty, to buy something that I was just going to have fun with, something that just had value to me, because apparently that doesn’t mean shit. In fact, the only thing worthwhile that I’ve introduced him to was hentai, according to him. *cough cough* Go figure.
So what am I then? What does that make me? Am I a whore, an angel, a bitch, a savior, a counselor? Will you ever make up your mind, because I’m getting tired of waiting around for you to decide what I am.
Do I know what I am? No, I don’t. But I’m beginning to realize it’s okay. It’s okay not to know how you feel all the time, or what you are. Because none of us are finished works yet. Things will always change, people will always feel lost, and yet the world goes on. And there are times when we’ll hurt and cry and love and wish we were anything but alive, but we don'’ have to shy away from it, or hide it, or feel guilty about it. Because it’s Us.
And now. Now. I realize that my mother and Fuckwit—they all need me to survive. They’ve gotten lazy living because they think that I will always be there to bail them out. And I might. Or I might not. But it will be my decision, and I don’t need them to survive. I’ll miss them, yes, even the Fuckwit occasionally because he’s been in my life so long. But will I die if I don’t see them?
No, I won’t.
Because this is my life too, and I’m sick and tired of putting on hold everything that I could be just for them.
I need something more than them.
And they are my family, by the rules of society. But they aren’t in my heart. There’s my Dad, because no matter how much we fight and how much we hurt each other, we’ll always be there for each other. Besides him, there are five people who are my family. You know who you are. *snuggles you all* You are all I need. Because you believe in me, and I believe in you.
And I think. I think. That’s enough.
You know, my life and I are tired of each other, so maybe it's time for me to get a new one.
Me: Anything else I can get for you?
Customer: *hopefully* your phone number?
Me: What?
Customer: Forget it. I was teasing you. You probably have a man already.
Me: merrgh.
Encounter 2 at work:
Customer: (who is a regular, might I add, and has therefore seen me before): *double take* Holy—when did you start wearing glasses?
Me: *pause* Approximately five years ago.
Customer: Damn, I never noticed! You look gorgeous in them!
Me: …thanks?
Encounter with my father:
Me: *slings purse diagonally across chest*
Dad: *pauses* Rachel, move your purse.
Me: *confused* Why?
Dad: Well, you know how some girls have bras that separate and lift?
Me: Erm?
Dad: *annoyed*: You don’t need one of those because you have your purse!
Me: *looks down, then arches eyebrow at Dad*: No one looks at my chest, Dad.
Dad: Yes, they do. And as your father, it is my duty to stop them all from looking. So move your purse.
Me. o.O
So. I see my mother today at work (will miracles never cease?) and we talked for a moment. I told her about my 300 dollar QaF fiasco and the first thing she does is tell me to send them back, although I haven’t even received them yet.(she did, however, have a point, so I will not buy that absolutely lovely folio edition of Milton’s Pardise Lost with the illustrations by William Blake. ^^;:;;)
I say whatever, and ask her to bring in the Fuckwit for a moment, because I actually needed to talk to It. And the first thing he asks is what thing did I spend 300 dollars this time? (The first and only other time was when I bought the FFX replica of Yuna’s necklace.) I told him, and he’s like, another useless thing, as usual.
Why does everything I spend money on end up being ‘useless’? Just because it isn’t going to be worth a million dollars in three years, it’s useless? What about sentimental value? Or what about the simple fact that I might buy something because it makes me feel good? It reminds me of the time when I was a child, and my father had given me a gift certificate of $20 dollars to use at a comic book store. (when you could still buy like, 15 comics for 20 dollars…) and the Fuckwit promptly usurped the certificate and bought me things that ‘would be worth something one day, and that I wasn’t allowed to touch. Finally, with the remainder of the certificate, he decides to allow me to buy something. I looked around for a bit and decided on this obscure thing that looked kind of interesting, and he gave me such a look of disgust. It made me feel dirty, to buy something that I was just going to have fun with, something that just had value to me, because apparently that doesn’t mean shit. In fact, the only thing worthwhile that I’ve introduced him to was hentai, according to him. *cough cough* Go figure.
So what am I then? What does that make me? Am I a whore, an angel, a bitch, a savior, a counselor? Will you ever make up your mind, because I’m getting tired of waiting around for you to decide what I am.
Do I know what I am? No, I don’t. But I’m beginning to realize it’s okay. It’s okay not to know how you feel all the time, or what you are. Because none of us are finished works yet. Things will always change, people will always feel lost, and yet the world goes on. And there are times when we’ll hurt and cry and love and wish we were anything but alive, but we don'’ have to shy away from it, or hide it, or feel guilty about it. Because it’s Us.
And now. Now. I realize that my mother and Fuckwit—they all need me to survive. They’ve gotten lazy living because they think that I will always be there to bail them out. And I might. Or I might not. But it will be my decision, and I don’t need them to survive. I’ll miss them, yes, even the Fuckwit occasionally because he’s been in my life so long. But will I die if I don’t see them?
No, I won’t.
Because this is my life too, and I’m sick and tired of putting on hold everything that I could be just for them.
I need something more than them.
And they are my family, by the rules of society. But they aren’t in my heart. There’s my Dad, because no matter how much we fight and how much we hurt each other, we’ll always be there for each other. Besides him, there are five people who are my family. You know who you are. *snuggles you all* You are all I need. Because you believe in me, and I believe in you.
And I think. I think. That’s enough.
You know, my life and I are tired of each other, so maybe it's time for me to get a new one.
