why.

why can't i just tell my mother: i think you didn't set any limits. i think i'm failing, flailing, out here on my own. i didn't get any guidance, but unlike my friends with obviously fucked up parents who obviously didn't do their jobs, you fake it. all too well. it took me and em this long to figure out our household was all about us, that we are completely spoiled. it's even brattier to complain about that, but man did you pull the wool over our eyes. because i had no structure, i now don't trust you to support me. way to be strong, mom. way to give up when the parenting gets too hard.

and my sister? i have all the same fears for her that she does. i fear that the structured academic environment she's been in hasn't prepared her to whip her own ass. that she isn't ready. that she hasn't held a "real" job (for very long). that she can't remember to clean up the house before she leaves it, or communicate, or plan. that her sloppiness means something is terribly wrong. i'm scared for her, of course i am. and i did it differently, so i don't even have shared experience to point to. i don't think i have enough self-discipline, so i can't measure if she does. my freshmen year was my longest period of unemployment in two and a half years.

why can't i just ask my best friend the questions that need asking? is she ever happy? does she believe in the power of thought and words? i do. i believe that thoughts and words - the things we tell ourselves - are immensely powerful. but she must not. i've pointed out her language to her, how it is absolute and negative. i should not have a best friend about whom all i do is complain. i remember when we enjoyed each other; right now i feel like i'm in a marriage that's lost its spark. and her intense defensiveness about everything . . . all i can say is, i would be stressed out and miserable and exhausted too, if i were her. if i never saw any options for myself, i'd feel trapped and stressed out in my cage as well. the key is seeing the options. seeing is a choice, and one she refuses to make.

why can't i remember when i'm at slc that i love santa fe? why do i let those hipsters make me feel ashamed of liking my home? note to self: maybe they don't come from a home and a place as nice as yours. feel lucky. maybe they don't (mostly) like their families, maybe they don't have friends where they're from. it's not pathetic to want to come home and try to grab time with tina and jess and gerard when they roll through town. it's not wrong to want to do nothing but take yoga and pilates with jackie and then go to target with mana. coming home to sarah because she is your best friend and you can't take her with you is okay. will i ever break from this place?