क्या हुआ??

वैसे अब मैं हिंदी में लिखना की कोशिश कर रही हूँ. मुझे क्या बोलना चाहिये? आज की रात, मैंने लाँम करी खाया, और बहुत अच्छा था. कल मुझे एक पेपर लिखना पड़ूगा.

Okay, I think that’s good for now. If any hindi bolkars want to correct me, feel totally free!

In my past entries, I have discussed several different issues. My range and uncertainty of emotion has been a recurring topic in both my journaling and internal pondering. So here, finally, here I am.  I have the ultimate clarity and the ultimate fog at the same time.

The days are counting down, and the things I have been holding in for these years are pouring out. All the anger that I had been readying myself to keep inside forever are coming to the front. As of now, anger is the theme.

I made my last effort with my father. The other day, after he shamelessly showed me the great couch he bought for his awesome new apartment, I completely exploded. It was a controlled explosion though. Voice raised, but not screaming. Anger, but not in a rage. I let it all out. I detailed all the reasons I was angry, hurt, suffering through this mess. Why he had hurt me, and why it was not just about me “getting over it.”  He replied that I was entirely out of line, that he was completely justified in the things he had said….and that he was afraid I would turn out just like my mother.

With these words being said, I know finally that I am justified. I know that I have every right to feel as enraged as I do. He keeps repeating how he “loves his little girl” like it will erase the past. But the truth is that this “little girl” has not existed since I was 10 years old.

Anyway, I’m sort of rambling now. My point is this, I’m to the point where I cannot make an effort anymore. I’m too angry, and he is too clueless and too self-involved to ever understand the horrible things he has done to the people who he “cares” about. Maybe someday I will “get over it,” but that will involve me being more at peace with myself but probably not being able to have any sort of relationship with my father. Part of me says, he’s my father, I have to keep trying. But I know that it’s actually pointless, and I need to thing about my own mental state now.

Though I grip tightly
the shell falls down around me
the membrane is torn from my eyes and face
a bright light blinds me

The ground on which I stood has moved aside
the branches I hung from have been cut away
I look from side to side without recognition

It is to me a rebirth
A transmigration without the pause of death

These support beams have splintered ripped my flesh
I woefully break away in self defense
becoming free and imprisoned at once
living as one with the past while bursting forth into the unsure future.

So after all the journal entries and rants and venting to my friends…we are reaching the end. The paperwork is sitting mere feet away from me, with signatures and justifications. All the scenarios that have gone through my head of what will happen are moving aside as the reality of the situation begins. There will be planning and divisions and changes while I can only watch and cope.

My only hope is that everyone will come through this and one day recover.

We’ve already started getting used to some of the changes. Seeing what it’s like with just two people here. I’m sure the little things will be the hardest: checking different boxes on forms, explaining why my mom suddenly has a different last name, and simply saying that my parents aren’t married anymore.

I was going through this fake dialogue in my head while I was driving home from the store today. In it, a disembodied voice asked me what I wanted my parents to do; if I wanted them to split up or if I would rather they stayed together. I replied back (no, I’m not actually crazy) that what I wanted really, truly, deep down inside, was for my parents to have actually loved each other in the first place. I wanted my mom to not be on the rebound so she could have chosen someone that was good for her. What I really desired was for this family to not have been completely doomed from the start. That way, maybe I would have the option to say, “No, I want mommy and daddy to stay together.” For me to sit here and say that now would mean I was deluding myself.

This is the only real option. My eyes have been opened to the fact that divorce has been on the the to-do list of my parents’ relationship since, and maybe before, I was born.

But now it’s happening. My father is going to turn out of our driveway and it will no longer be his driveway. All our family videos and pictures will be tinged with a sense of what was and never will be again. So, I acknowledge, I will cope, I will live. The world does not stop turning because your parents don’t love each other.

So here we go…