🎶 I’m a drifter’s body in an open sea

and I see my reflection staring right back at me

with no place to go and you’re left all alone-

there’s no place like home.

🎶 I don’t know if I’ve ever been really loved by a hand that’s touched me

and I feel like something’s gonna give

🎶 I’m sick of looking after you.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

They did none of that to cause me pain. They wanted to include me. They wanted me to participate. So much so that they basically did it for me. They didn’t mean to take away my autonomy in the situation. But they did. Because they’re emotionally immature, terrified of confrontation and conflict, and feel a need to be in control.

That’s why I didn’t get to pick “my” ornament. That’s why there was no discussion, she just bought me presents as soon as she saw a tiny glimmer of a chance that I might be there. It’s well intentioned. It’s saying “I want you here.” But it’s also saying “I don’t know you and I’m scared that learning you would be harder than pretending I do.”

And I feel like I need to address it because I’m not okay with it. I’m not comfortable with it. I won’t allow my autonomy to be taken away from me. I’m not sure how though, because my emotions are inflamed and when I think about the issue, I remember how… was it the last Christmas I spent with them? Second to last? I found my perfect ornament. A limited edition bauble from my favorite band. My mom and I had been fighting. She shattered it accidentally the day we decorated the tree. And it felt like an example of how she didn’t take consideration of the things that mattered to me, or she would’ve been more careful… she did spend like the next year trying to hunt down a replacement, but they had only made a handful of them. They’ve never put out ornaments again, it was a special release to go with a Christmas song they dropped. Or the Christmas when I was like 17 and she got me a katniss barbie, bc I love the hunger games. And I felt like she viewed me only as a child, though I’d had to be an adult since before puberty. Or the Christmas when my parents were separated, but my dad showed up on Christmas Eve, carrying the bike I’d wanted so bad up the porch, and I cried not because I was getting this big gift that I wasn’t sure my parents would be able to afford, but because my fractured family was actually gonna spend Christmas together, which had seemed impossible at the time.

I know they mean well. They’ve always meant well. But they never bothered to get to know me. So they don’t even know what would work on me… they keep trying the same old tricks. They’ve learned nothing. Because they’re scared to have to change.

he bought a house. with the advice I gave him.

🎶 wish you a life full of song, no static.