Speaking Of Misery

I'm looking at three plates and I think I might break them. Then they'd be nothing. Nada

Have you ever felt like a stranger in your own house? Doesn't make any logical sense mind you, but neither do dreams. My feelings of obscurity among my own family does not, however, take root in my subconscious. I know exactly why I feel like bolting. What would any intruder do, but flee the scene of the crime?

Cops know a perp when they run. I haven't done anything wrong and yet I flee... or rather avoid. I like to think I'm avoiding my dad because I believe he should apologize to me. His behavior was uncalled for and irrational. I did nothing wrong. Nada

What actually runs through my head to make me change my pattern of living is that I'm scared. I'm scared that I was uncalled for. I'm scared of my dad.

I'm looking at this plate and I think it's too soaked. I want to dump it's content on the floor, smash it into the carpet, show it I'm angry. Prove to a hamburger I'm helpless.

I have a logical mind. I know I shouldn't be scared. My parents promised to protect me. They promised me a good life with decent prospects. They promised me they would help me with the things I couldn't do for myself. I know they would never take their support away.

But logically I didn't ask for their help. I didn't say I needed them to do anything. I am capable of filling out forms, of going the speed limit, of calling it like I see it, of standing up for myself. Reasonable actions come naturally to me. It's easy to say "you're wrong" when it's right to. It's easy to write your name when you know how. It's easy to make the right call when you know the consequences of the wrong call. It's not so easy to listen to why you're not in control. You have nothing. Nada.

I believe that for every argument there could have been a discussion. Logically, people are bound to disagree, but why we resort to yelling is beyond me. Nobody in the room is deaf. Nadie.

Today was the last time I will be yelled at.

Today was the last day I will be yelled at for not knowing the answer

or how to help

or where you put the stuff

or not living up to your expectations.

Today was the last day I don't argue back.

My opinions matter because I have just an inch more of experience then I did last year.

My thoughts count because I have just a little more knowledge then I did 2 months ago.

My argument is valid because I'm Right.

We didn't have to argue. You didn't have to get mad. I said I didn't know the answer because I didn't. Logically, you can't know the answer to a math question you don't remember how to solve. I can't remember because it was two years ago I wasn't tested over this material. I won't pass this class because I'm not the one taking it; It's not my responsibility to.

But you won't listen to my explanation because in you're mind you've already won the argument. My mind hasn't even registered that we're arguing yet.

But when it clicks

when the anger sets in

when the tears boil and brim hot around my eyes

I'm going to make you listen. For once in my life, you will hear me and you will listen to me. And I will make every word count.

I look at your empty plate at the dinner table. I look at your empty chair. And I know that you listened.

But why does the silence now kill me? I hear nothing.

Nada

good luck to my baby sister who I know can pass calculus even if it's been to long for me to help her :)