| | Merry day-after-boxing-day, kids! I am at my auntie Anne's house (incidentally, 'Auntie Anne's' is also a pretzel shop in Bangkok... this causes much amusement for the family in the way many unfunny things can be hilarious family in-jokes) recovering from recent turkey-and-wine excess. All is jolly and good. Well, mostly. Family is an odd, odd thing. So vital and central to life yet so screamingly infuriating. I love coming home and being a daughter again, getting all that food and warmth and security for absolutely nothing- but however grateful I am I inevitably get annoyed at people and end up snapping and arguing and sulking and being disgusted at myself for it but somehow unable to stop. And then there's The Boyfriend Thing. Oh what fun that is. My sister, love her to bits as I do, is fifteen and difficult and quite violently hates my boyfriend, whose only crimes seem to be having long, sometimes scruffy, hair and coming from a place she doesn't deem 'cool'. That's as much information as I can get out of her anyway- I know its psykerlogickally a lot deeper and complicateder than that, but it's got to the point where if I mention his name she walks out of the room, so I can't really get any further. Diplomacy is not her thing. Punishing me by glaring and not talking and never telling me how I can make things better is her thing. Seriously. Some of my queer(er) friends have described situations where they've come out to their parents but weren't recieved very well AT ALL, so the whole subject, that whole significant part of their life, has become taboo. I feel like that. Izzi and I are getting on quite well this Christmas, but only as long as I act as if Sacha in no way exists. Which hurts, not just because I love him but because he's so much a part of my uni life that I can't be honest about the things I do at Warwick, I constantly have to censor him out of all my anecdotes. And at the same time I have to play the Awesome Caring Big Sister who listens to all her boy stuff and never, ever snaps and shakes her and cries 'but what about me? Can't you get your head around the fact that however much I love anyone, I'll never love you any less? I'll never love anyone more than you!' - I've tried that one before, and all it gets me is silence. I just have to shut up and tell myself that I'm supposed to be the mature one. Except I'm not really very mature at all. I'm just a bit confused and lost and good-intentional but almost constantly unmeaningly selfish, so no wonder I can't get anything right. |
| | Posted 12/27/2006 8:04 AM - 23 Views - 6 eProps - 6 comments
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