Repeat..... Repeat......

I changed my mind the moment I walked through the door and saw my father sitting at the computer with a big old grin on his face. All feelings of wishing they were here blew from my mind. They weren't supposed to be back until tonight. I wanted to clean up the house and have it look spotless for their return. I wanted to do something sweet and nice and amazing for them. But instead, I got a disapproving look for having their bedroom a disaster where I slept, and got to clean clean clean while they looked at their Hawaii pictures.

Suddenly I realized how very much I want them to stay away in Hawaii. All my freedoms are now gone and it's a shocking reality for me after such a long week. 

Most frustrating, is when I left the house this morning, there were a few bowls and glasses around the sink. When I came home, there was a pile of dishes. Now how could that be so?

It's back to the same boring patterns: sleep, go to school, castleville, hear parents yell at each other, clean, castleville/work, homework, sleep, repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

I desperately wish I had my own car but didn't have to pay for gas. I wish I had my own TV to watch Dexter on. I wish I had a personal bathroom all to myself. I wish I had a mattress topper for extra comfort. I wish I.... oh, I already exceeded my three wishes.

School hasn't been too exciting lately, and I almost always enjoy school. I'm pretty sure it's because of my friends. I have nothing against them, I love them all to death, but some of them drive me off the walls. Like whenever Tyler F. talks about his tragic family stories, his horrific childhood, his feelings about other men, his self-hate because he can't get good grades like me, or how he loves Abby Heath (his "twin sister"). Kaeli and Tyler K. are just too clingy and they kiss and kiss and hump each other and it's ridiculous. Brayden I love to be around. He's just normal for a gay guy. Not overly dramatic, not overly obvious, he's just a mellow person for being gay.

I haven't seen Brody or Matt around lately, which I'm secretly thankful for. I hate Matt. Period. Brody I can only tolerate so much, since he's always got something dirty to say or...well, something dirty to say. Ugh.

Kaylynn...I've actually missed her. I mean a serious nostalgic feeling for ninth grade, when I was her super awesome best friend and nothing would get between us...kind of.  But what really saddens me is the fact that though I know Kaylynn loves me and likes being around me, I don't think she is so fond of me as to go out of her way and do something amazing for me like I do for her. If she has that kind of time to use, she'd use it on her boyfriend, whom never escapes to be talked about each day.

I don't feel like I have a true best friend who has the potential and understanding to know every deep, dark secret and feeling within me. Rachel fits into that category, but she's more like my sister than a super best friend. No, sometimes I wish my life could be like a story and I could have a friend who knows ME and falls in love with ME because of ME. I want them to fall in love with me because I nod and listen to them sob about their "crappy" day at home, because I try to help them with their homework or their problems, or write a poem for them, or smile just because I want to make their day bright.

I want a girlfriend who I can trust, who would cry with me and support me in all I do. Not tell me "You need to eat lunch" like I'm anorexic or something. I want a best friend who will stay up late with me on Friday nights and scream as loud as she can with me when we watch a scary movie. I want to have a friend that I can open up to and tell her who's attractive, how I feel, without feeling like she might spread it on to someone else. I want a best friend I can hug for hours if I wanted, and she wouldn't care. I want a friend to share inside jokes with, to share hobbies with. I want someone who would be willing enough or care enough to try reading my writing.  I want someone I could just collapse into their lap, or rest my head against their shoulder and cry, and they wouldn't ask me one question about it.

But all that work should be returned just as kindly, and I never receive it.

I'm asking for too much. There might never be anyone like that for me out there except myself. Should I become friends with myself? Would I eventually go insane? Or should I continue to feel an empty companionship, stare at the space on my right covered with cobwebs?

A possibility would be to let it all out through my writing, but whenever I do write, I mean to write and expand on my story, instead of my feelings. I lose myself in the world of fantasy and war and love and life and magic. I forget my problems, and then when I come back, they're waiting at the threshold, ready to release their eager determination upon me. I sink back into the depressing routines of every day life. And then I feel like crying.

I doubt I have the actual mental disease "depression", but my life isn't normally surrounded by so much sadness. Usually I carry with me an optimism no one can penetrate with their pessimism, and I can allow it to stretch its wings and affect others around me. But lately, I've felt this pressing need to get out of this bubble, out of this horrid winter in Utah. I want so badly to move on in my life, not be stuck in high school with lectures about college over and over again. I want to act on my decisions now, but being held back, rooted in place, stirs frustrations and sadness in me. I want nothing more than to change it up and do something new.

That's why when I heard my parents' passive/aggressive arguing upstairs, only hours after they had gotten back from their long vacation, that I realized hopelessly that I'm trapped in a loop with no end or beginning.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Only my desires, my determination to reach my goals, and my passion for writing might get me through this early cycle of adulthood. I pray I never lose these intangible values, because when I turn forty, I will still be in this dreary cycle. Sleep, Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat.

Repeat.