October 2010
September 2010
[Insert incredulous statement about the weather here]
And then you reply with an energetic agreement. Followed by an exaggerated personal anecdote intended to make your experience with the weather sound worse than mine.
“I’m like that woman on the Food Network whose husband only comes home on the weekend, and she spends the rest of her time eating and drinking with her gay friends.”
—Liz Lemon
Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you
Sharon,
I’ve tried so hard to show you that I’ve grown up. I was a little brat, I know that. But so were you. You have to understand where I was in my life. I just moved to a new state and started a new high school. I was insecure and homesick. And to top it all off you and Auntie moved in. It was too much for my emotional unstable 15 year old self to handle. I look back now and realize that you were in the exact same position. You left your husband and your family for a new country in hopes of having better opportunities. We were in the same boat. I think that’s why we butted heads so much. And then you left. It was an awkward good-bye. An extremely awkward good-bye. Actually, I’m pretty sure you said good-by to my mom and just walked by me. That hurt. It really hurt.
Fast forward 5 years later when I finally visited the motherland, first time in 5 years, I thought everything would be peachy. Nope, far from it. I tried to be a mature adult. I tried to show you that I changed for the better; that I wasn’t the same person I was 5 years earlier. You didn’t care. You ignored me. And even in those moments when you did acknowledge my presence you gave me a look of contemplate. There were so many times when I wanted to yell ‘SCREW YOU!” and tell you to get off of your high horse. But we’re related. But not by blood. I think you use the fact that we’re not related by blood to rationalize treating me like crap.
I’ll never be able to earn your forgiveness. And to be completely honest, I don’t care anymore. I’m done trying to sell the new and improved me to you. I was who I was and I am who I am. I’ve grown, I’ve learned, I’ve forgiven. But you. Have you grown? Have you learned? Have you forgiven? I try to think the best of everyone. But when you look at me. When you look at me with the same eyes from 5 years ago I realize. I realize that you’ll never forgive me. But maybe one day you’ll wake up and see me. Me. Not 15 year old me, but now me. I’m counting down the days till you wake up.
