#wewillneverknow

The thing is, I can see the delusion in my parents’ eyes and I can feel the resignation in their voices when we talk about the possible future or when we talk on the phone, living 500 miles away. The thing is, I just wanted to prove my worth to my parents, to make ‘em trust me a little more and to stop being treated like a 14 years old girl. “Imma pull this off” I thought, “Imma love this city so much I won’t want to leave, maybe I’ll even manage to get a good group of friends for the first time”. I was really convinced, I truly believed that going to study away from home and all the experiences that would come from it, were gonna be the major plot twist in the book of my life. It turned out that it wasn’t. It was the same old, lonely and perpetually procrastinating shit. I didn’t manage to befriend anyone, not even my own roommate, not even the very few people who always sit in the front row during the lectures, like me. And the studying I actually came here for, is zero to none. I just can’t bring myself to do it, I lost my passion for reading a long time ago and now it is very difficult for me to memorize things that I’ll actually remember for more than a week. I lost all the purpose and determination that brought me here, somewhere along the way I just lost ‘em.

The thing is, I had a dream and I’m watching it crumble right before my eyes. I’m still trying to hold on with every bit of hope I still have, I already told my parents I want to stay here the next year, even though it’s not true, even though I know it won’t do me any good. But I can’t even come back home, that would be kind of an admission of defeat, and also because home strangely doesn’t feel like home anymore: something changed while I was away, now there are all the broken expectations my parents had of me, all the things they thought I should have done but I didn’t manage to do. And I can’t live serenely knowing that I broke their dreams, their dreams of finally seeming like a normal family.

On top of that, my younger sister is growing up without me, and it’s the first time we’ve been apart for more than three weeks. Before all of this happened, she was still my same height, now she’s taller, she laughed at every joke I made, now she doesn’t even react that much to our inside jokes. She has started spending a lot more time on her phone than before, she is now obsessed with her weight and doesn’t play with me anymore. And it tears me apart because I kinda feel like it is my fault. I mean, she’s just eleven, she shouldn’t care about the numbers on the scale.  

My mother has stopped believing in me, she’s now more anxious and paranoid than ever. I wanted to earn my parents’ trust but I ended up losing it and I feel like I got the floor pulled from beneath my feet. I’ve never known a reality without dreams so now I literally don’t know what to do: I’m scared to go forward but I’m also scared to turn away from all of this. Do I continue or do I go back?

I just want to tell my family that I’m sorry and that I hope one day they’ll be able to forgive me. And please, keep believing in my broken dreams, even if you have to fake it, do it for me. I know what you actually think about this whole situation, so there’s no need to say it out loud, I think I a bullet through my heart would hurt less.

Really, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to do.

The thing is, I can see the delusion in my parents’ eyes and I can feel the resignation in their voices when we talk about the possible future or when we talk on the phone, living 500 miles away. The thing is, I just wanted to prove my worth to my parents, to make ‘em trust me a little more and to stop being treated like a 14 years old girl. “Imma pull this off” I thought, “Imma love this city so much I won’t want to leave, maybe I’ll even manage to get a good group of friends for the first time”. I was really convinced, I truly believed that going to study away from home and all the experiences that would come from it, were gonna be the major plot twist in the book of my life. It turned out that it wasn't. It was the same old, lonely and perpetually procrastinating shit. I didn’t manage to befriend anyone, not even my own roommate, not even the very few people who always sit in the front row during the lectures, like me. And the studying I actually came here for, is zero to none. I just can’t bring myself to do it, I lost my passion for reading a long time ago and now it is very difficult for me to memorize things that I’ll actually remember for more than a week. I lost all the purpose and determination that brought me here, somewhere along the way I just lost ‘em. 

The thing is, I had a dream and I’m watching it crumble right before my eyes. I’m still trying to hold on with every bit of hope I still have, I already told my parents I want to stay here the next year, even though it’s not true, even though I know it won’t do me any good. But I can’t even come back home, that would be kind of an admission of defeat, and also because home strangely doesn’t feel like home anymore: something changed while I was away, now there are all the broken expectations my parents had of me, all the things they thought I should have done but I didn’t manage to do. And I can’t live serenely knowing that I broke their dreams, their dreams of finally seeming like a normal family. 

On top of that, my younger sister is growing up without me, and it’s the first time we’ve been apart for more than three weeks. Before all of this happened, she was still my same height, now she’s taller, she laughed at every joke I made, now she doesn’t even react that much to our inside jokes. She has started spending a lot more time on her phone than before, she is now obsessed with her weight and doesn’t play with me anymore. And it tears me apart because I kinda feel like it is my fault. I mean, she’s just eleven, she shouldn’t care about the numbers on the scale.  

My mother has stopped believing in me, she’s now more anxious and paranoid than ever. I wanted to earn my parents’ trust but I ended up losing it and I feel like I got the floor pulled from beneath my feet. I’ve never known a reality without dreams so now I literally don’t know what to do: I’m scared to go forward but I’m also scared to turn away from all of this. Do I continue or do I go back? 

I just want to tell my family that I’m sorry and that I hope one day they’ll be able to forgive me. And please, keep believing in my broken dreams, even if you have to fake it, do it for me. I know what you actually think about this whole situation, so there’s no need to say it out loud, I think I a bullet through my heart would hurt less.