I: Next week
Exams are finally over. I don't think I screwed them too much. I'll be going on that trip with several friends to these islands that I talked about in an earlier journal entry. We (twenty-something of us) will be gone from Tuesday till Saturday, kayaking, jungle-trekking (hopefully), snorkelling and lounging around in the sun. I know many of the others will be bringing stuff to drink, but I don't plan to.
I've been toying with the idea of coming out to some of them while I'm there, since school's finished. If I do come out to some of them, I hope I will come out to my crush/ex-crush (not sure which he is). I can imagine that we might play Truth or Dare, and someone will ask me about my problems with my parents (which, I recently learnt, is rather highly publicised). If I do come out to them, I know I'll have broken my agreement with my parents. More importantly, I'll be rocking the boat some more and I'm not sure my parents will take that.
II: The "parents"
I Hate my brother. My second-eldest brother that is. I cannot stand him. Yesterday morning, the terminal insomnia I get every holiday kicked in. I woke up at 4:30. Later, my mother woke up to wake up my brother. She woke him up, and he went back to sleep again and this happened again. He even went to my parents' room to sleep (they've been sleeping downstairs of late), but I realised he was there and I told my mother. Anyway, suffice to say I pissed off my brother quite a bit.
Seeing my brother in such a foul mood might have made me reasonably cheerful, but in the first place I was happy to have woken up feeling refreshed. I put a smile on my face, which might have been partly fake, but it was what I felt like doing. But my dad wasn't pleased with the disparity of his sons' levels of contentment. He said that he had to correct both our ways, or words to that effect. I said it was too late.
This seemed to piss him off. His fuse has shortened significantly over the past few months. It may have been my coming out, but it was largely my brother, for my dad suffers watching my brother every morning as he struggles to leave on time. My dad threatened to not have me go to Dartmouth after all. I could see he was overreacting. He shouted for me to acknowledge what he said. Reluctantly, and slowly I did. It's a very fine line I walk. Then he took my brother to work. My mother talked with me about what had transpired. She said I should go on them lighter - not to nag my brother as much. I pointed out that every time I've felt a little bit down, they've been nagging me to just fucking "be positive", like Jehovah's witnesses telling someone to find Jesus.
Later, my dad called me up on my mobile to discuss this some more. I regreted answering the call, since I could see it was him on the caller ID. He didn't have anything important to say, otherwise I would have remembered to write it down here.
So I've done a bit of thinking about this and my relationship with my parents. I've come to the conclusion that at the moment, I have an overall dislike of my parents. I may or may not love them to some extent, but this is outweighed by my dislike of them. Sad, but true. In fact, if I were older and ready to be financially independent, I'm not sure that I would keep in contact with them. Sadder, but true. I actually don't seem to feel anything for them - it all just feels empty.
I can't say that they haven't helped in many ways, since they're a pretty clever pair, in some ways. But ultimately, they've failed, at least as far as getting their son to love them goes. They could have been more sensitive to the fact that I'm almost autistic at times (a high-functioning autist, though), and maybe they'd have realised why I'm so stubborn about some things. They could have been more receptive to gay people - we don't live in the Dark Ages. They could have realised that if I go to an international school, there's a strong chance I'm going to condemn them everytime they say something racist (they don't say things that are outright negative; it's more like racial profiling). I guess I could have empathised more, but I find it difficult to empathise with them.
I admit, I haven't been easy to raise. But people who aren't prepared for every possible son or daughter shouldn't have children. Obviously their parental love is conditional. My dad thinks I should respect him more. Yet he plays the Dartmouth card like a dictator. I think I'll just go back to lying to them. I'm not talking about being gay. Instead of voicing my opinion, I'll just say that I agree with them and take their "logic" to its nth degree. If they want to have a son just like them, fine. I'll be just like them while I'm around them, but they'll never know me. I came out so that they could know me better, but its clear that's not what they're interested in.