Sometimes nothing changes. Not having been home for 4 months, which, granted, isn’t that extensive of a time but long enough to notice a difference, nothing much had really changed. I don’t know what I was expecting I guess, but definitely not this. It was like time had reversed itself back to the summer and I was being given ... well not given anything really. I mean, it’s not bad this, the sameness of this life. My mom never changes – saying this and saying that, busy busy, veggies, God. I had forgotten how much our life centered around Church at home. I had forgotten that my house was cold, as always, space heaters in a couple rooms but mostly, resorting back to wearing sweaters on a regular basis. Old sweaters, that is, as I neglected to bring back any. I passed out last night at 7 pm, but when I woke up at 4 am, it was funny how quiet the house was, and I recall back to my summer days trying to be sneaky while staying up that late at night.
This is not bad. This routine, this sameness, this consistency. It is definitely not bad, and one day I might even crave it. But for now, it feels claustrophobic. Some part of me doesn’t want to get caught up in this trap, although it is hardly a trap, it is a good way of life. I know it’s the “youth” part of me but at the same time, I mean, should I have to reconcile myself to a life of commitment at this age? I think by the time I’ll be ready, it shouldn’t be “have to” and hopefully will be a “want to”. I mean, coming back home, I felt again like a 12 year old 21 year old (or so how my parents treated me this summer) and I’m trying to push those boundaries, but I think a part of me doesn’t want to. My sister definitely will when the time comes, I believe, or she won’t have to for my parents will have grown up mentally by that period of time.
I think more than anything, I feel isolated. Caught between two worlds – the one that I used to live, and the one that I am and want to be living. The tradition and the now. I mean, my dad assumed in his tone of voice that I would take my 8 year old sister to hockey this evening – she’s playing goalie. I wonder how long it will be until they assume that I will be cooking again. But that is just not me. Not that staying up till 4 am and eating MnMs by the handful is me either. I guess I’m just confused, or still tired, or trying to justify stuff that just is. I’m constantly thirsty, my hair refuses to cooperate, and there are no locks on doors. The streets are shovelled, there’s barely any snow on the ground, and wearing winter boots make your feet hot.
Oh, and I have to start Acoustic Physics.
Miss me Ontario?
Cheers!
Everytime I visit my parents, which will be coming up in a couple weeks, I'm reminded of how late I stay up now as opposed to how late I could get away with when I lived with them. Like, when I come home from any parties or hanging with friends, they want be to be back by 2 a.m. Which makes sense, they don't want me coming home and waking them up, and 2 a.m. is generous for them since they usually sleep at about 10. But it's sad that 2 a.m. usually is me leaving a party abruptly like "Well, I should probably be heading out, see you tomorrow everyone..."
ReplyDeleteBut in a weird way, I miss living with my parents and sneaking around the house late at night. Being up till 3 or 4 on the computer, talking to online friends, listening to music on headphones, always being paranoid they could hear me, shutting down the computer if I heard them stirring around and me running quietly to my room and into my covers to pretend to sleep.
Those were the good ol days.