I lack motivation
So I’m about as good at writing on my blog as I am writing in my journal. Aka, horrible. My last post was six months ago when I was living in College Terrace apartments in Orem. Run down, inexpensive apartments that I got by on, but definitely not a place to call home. At least, until Lonny moved in to the building next to mine. Being so close to him was like…well…referring to my last post, turning on a light. I wasn’t scared, because he was just a few feet away. Our windows even faced each other, though his was much lower than mine, it was comforting just to know he was near. We spent our days, when we weren’t working, renting movies from the redbox across the street or walking over to WalMart for groceries and snacks…or both. Of course, those were the days I wasn’t watching him play BioShock on his Xbox. You know, I’m really not into video games much, but BioShock was like watching one long, amazingly captivating movie. Even had an awesome plot twist at the end to rival those of Fight Club or The Prestige. Anyway, the summer quickly came to an end, and so did Lonny’s job. In addition to horrible management and crappy living conditions, the rent jumped another hundred dollars come fall, so Lonny and I both grudgingly dragged ourselves out of freedom and back into the arms of captivity. In simple terms, I moved home. The summer with Lonny was wonderful, and coming back to my parents house felt…and feels like suffocating. The upside? (Which, inevitably there has to be one) No rent, food is home cooked and paid for, and I get to be close to my brothers. Speaking of my brothers, Nathan, 13, just got out of surgery today and for anyone who cares to know, he’s doing really well and we hope for the best. Also, Josh, 16, has become one of my best friends. I just wish other people could see the boy I see when I look at him. He’s deep, he’s smart, he’s funny, and he writes amazing poetry. He’s like me. Poetic and lonely. Dealing with my dad has been harder than I wanted it to be. I tried to make sure there would never be any conflict between us, but there always seems to be something. Something more to yell at, something to keep me awake, crying. I love my dad. I wish there was a way to fix things. I wish I could just be better. A better daughter, a better sister, a better girlfriend. Just better. I’m sorry. I’m sorry to let you down, whoever you are. I’m sorry I have to be me.
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