Sometimes I want to just pack up everything I own and leave this school because I wonder if I’m where I’m supposed to be. Not many things have worked out this semester. Not many things have worked out at all since I’ve been here. The only thing stopping me from running away is the fact that I want to be here. I can’t imagine my life right now without a couple of the people I know here. If I turn my back and run like I so desperately want, that’s allowing a certain someone to have control over me without even being aware they influence me in such a way. No one should have that kind of control over you. Ever. If I don’t hold my ground and stay here, they win. And it’s not about pride. I’m not trying to save face; I’m just trying to hold it together.
I’m not prepared for the hurt that will come. I know it’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt a lot, probably more than I am imagining. Sometimes I hope they will do the same thing with them that they did with me, but I’m already quite positive that won’t be the case. To them, what they see is that I can hold my own—I can take care of myself and get things done, so no, they don’t think I need the family dinners or activities or help and support. To them, they will because they will be a budding family, with a mother who has no one to look to for guidance. I will forever be seen as capable and too forward. I know they will want me to say something when I say I’m not invited, but what is there to say? It’s not my place and it never will be. The decisions I’ve made, the secrets I’ve kept, and the face I’ve shown cause things to be the way they are. Nothing’s going to change that, not without a complete explanation that I’m unwilling to give—to anyone.
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