So when I close my eyes during this time, two scenes tend to play out. One is the picture of happiness and fun, another rips a hole in my heart that I still struggle with. Imagine a large room with it's walls and ceiling covered in windows. In one corner you have a giant black furnace heating the usually cold room, across from that you have an old stained futon, while near the door is a ancient radio. The rest of the room is usually empty and is perfect for parties. That's exactly what's happening now. Inside the green room you will see a group of ten or more girls, sitting in a circle all in the pj's and laughing. It's a sleepover, so of course they're going to try to stay up as late as possible. A few fall asleep before 11, not used to late nights, while others easily stay up past two. Those that fall asleep first as usually pranked with magic marker of course. It doesn't always work, sometimes the subject wakes while being drawn on, but sometimes they don't stir, so the others all giggle and can't wait for morning to come. All the girls seem to be having fun, laughing and joking, playing games and relaxing. It's not often the whole group can come together outside of a school setting, so they enjoy it while they can.
I used to be a part of that picture, but with time I find myself on the other side of the wall, looking in through one of the many windows. The girl that was once me is now a stranger, she is now just another mask that falls into place when it's needed.
The other scene is one I tend to ignore, because it still hurts to this day. I'm at the airport and this time I'm not looking in from the outside, because the girl in that scene is still a part of me. Still broken and jaded and hurt. She's with her father at the airport, watching her mothers back at she goes through security. Trying to memorize as much of her mother features as possible. The only thing that she's able to commit to memory is the light red hair, maybe it's the only thing she want's to remember, because everything else has been tainted in a way. Her smiles became vicious, her tongue would have to be thought over for lies and her eyes once warm and filled with love would house regret and anger more than anything else. Her hair is the only thing that stayed the same through those times, so it was remembered. When I found out she changed it as soon as she went back I smiled sadly, because that marked the end of those innocent days. I don't blame my mother for leaving, I knew she was miserable here, so I let her go. Hoping she'd be happy. I gave her my blessing and said good bye at the airport.
This event marks the beginning of the downfall, it's the catalyst to many future events. I was always terrible at remembering dates, but this one easily stuck to my mind- February 25th. The day my family officially stopped being a family. The day home stopped being a place and instead took shape as people. Those people are out of my reach now.
So when it's the final week of February I tend to be a bit quieter, a bit more reserved. Those scenes will both come to mind and I'll try to ignore them to the best of my abilities, but it doesn't always work. During this time sadness will always cling to me. The hole in my heart will feel a bit more hollow than usual. No matter how much I sigh, the heaviness will never leave me alone, but that's ok. These feelings aren't foreign to me and I know how to deal with them. I'll hide away until they pass and then I won't have to bother with them until they come knocking at my door once again. Till then I'll rely on the masks that seem to come so easily to me now, because this will pass, that much I have learned from the past.
So until then I just have to hold on and remember that I have someone to live for.
Three in fact.
No comments:
Post a Comment