I was lucky enough to have a good family. Daddy was a sweet person, always by my side, always there when I needed. Mom… mom was mom. I don't know if I can describe her with enough words. We were never close; I was the strange duck, who she did not know what to do with. We tried to be close, we really did, but we could never agree on anything so we just gave up with time. She usually wanted me to doll up so we could run around shopping, drinking tea, chatting about anything in particular, meeting at the country club, doing what the others girls would usually do. Although we never formed a strong bond, it didn't mean she was a bad person, she was a good person, I swear.
I was always the unusual girl, who apparently didn't fit anywhere, trying to fit somewhere I didn't belong in the first place, trying to be someone that I wasn't and never would be. Then someday I just stopped trying. It was a tiring exercise that I couldn't do anymore, pretending to be someone you aren't takes too much energy, too much space in your mind, and worst, it slowly breaks you inside.
When I stopped trying, I was too late because I was already broke. I was a shell of someone that I didn't know who I was. At the end of the day, when I lay in my bed looking through my glass wall that gave me a beautiful view of London, I had to sleep with someone I didn't know and wake with somebody that I never saw, and at the same time, all of them was me.
Trying to discover whom you are when everybody thinks you already know, it's a hard thing. After a few months going to sleep and waking up with a different person, I sat dad down to a talk with an idea on the mind and a brave face.
"Daddy, I need a huge favor,." I said, after looking for a lot of time through those damn glass walls that were everywhere in the loft. It usually gave me a weird feeling, I could see the world, I could almost smell it, and I wasn't capable of fitting in it.
"Sure Honey, anything you want, you know you can ask me," he said giving me his sweet smile, which usually gave me comfort but at that day only made me more nervous about my idea.
"I need… I need to start living alone, get back to college." After taking a deep breath, I continued, "I need to discover who I am. I think I would like to spend some time alone, trying to discover where I fit in this universe and even if I fit in it at all. I know I am asking you a big thing, I am aware of that, but would you mind paying for an apartment in New York for me and for college? I want to study psychology at NYU, live far away from the London Scene; I don't want to be Mom's doll anymore. I am tired," I said all in one breathe.
"Wow, Katie, honey, you know what you are asking me?" he said, running his hands through his hair, and looking in my eyes, maybe searching for a hint of doubt.
"Yeah dad, I know and you know I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure of my choice, I just can't live here anymore, I can't!" I say a little too loud. Taking another deep breath trying to remain calm I continued, "I am 20 years old and I still don't know what to do with myself. I can't live off your money forever, although I know you wouldn't mind Daddy,." I said, hugging him.
"Ugh Katie, the things you ask me!" he said, hugging me harder "You can arrange everything you need for your travel. You can go next week to New York, look for condos to buy one you like. Just choose one and it is yours." he said kissing my hair. "And I know you said that you can't always live with my money, but you are always going to have it, okay? 20% of the company it's yours, you also have your trust fund and both of these things were my money, but now it' is yours, okay?"
"Okay Dad, like I am going to say no to you offering money. I said I didn't want to live off your money forever, not that I didn't want it anymore," I said, laughing "I am going to organize everything. Who is going to tell Mom?" I said, walking towards my room, suddenly worried of the problem potential this had.
"I am going to, don't worry about her. I know you two never saw eye to eye, so I will handle the conversation. Just go do whatever you want and don't worry about anything," he said softly.
"Thank you Daddy, I knew that I could always count on you,". I said smiling at him.
"You are right; you can always count on me."
5 years later
The skies were starting to clear after a long night of rain. I've always loved the rain. When I was a little girl, I loved to sit by the glass' walls and look at the rain falling. It always gave me a strange sense of calmness in the middle of the turmoil of my head.
Since I was little I was confused about who I was, about the world around me, about every piece that made the society what it was and is. I didn't understand the concept the marriage, although it appeared that my parents had a good one, based on the serenity that was my house. They didn't argue, they never screamed at each other, at least with me in the room, and they were always sweet towards each other. That makes a good marriage, right? But I just didn't get it, why marry? Love? But what really was love? I cared about my family, I got sad when they were sad, I missed them when I was away, was this love? I was never sure.
My misunderstanding of relationships never helped me make friends, I was told that I was "too cold" to make anyone stay long enough to form a friendship. The touching part of the relationship was also tricky, I never got used to somebody else touching me. The only person that I loved to hug and let me be hugged by was my father, outside that, only in sexual encounters. Although I didn't understand the concept of relationship (giving such personal parts of you to someone always felt strange, or maybe, I just didn't have the guts to do it) I had always loved sex. It made me feel good and was something that after the first time, I craved, and usually it didn't need a previous relation, making it easy for me to like. So there you have it, the only relationship I had in my life until I moved to New York was with my father, the times I tried to do it have a relationship, I was never good at this record and many nights lost crying, trying to understand what the fuck was wrong with me…. I got used to living my lonely existence.
When I was in London I felt like a fish out of water. I tried so hard to fit in there, to be the perfect girl that everybody wanted me to be, to fit in the mold that society made for me and… as you obviously can see, I never did a good job, so I stopped trying.
In New York, I didn't have to fit in any mold, I could be whatever and whoever I wanted to be. So, the first thing I did when I moved to New York was get a tattoo, I've always wanted a tattoo but my parents weren't too keen of them, but here they wouldn't know.
The first tattoo was a phoenix, a silly symbolism for someone who never had nothing too big to symbolize. Every six months since my first one I got a new one, the pain of doing the tattoo was always very freeing, although to this day I don't know why.
College was a good idea, psychology really helped me through difficult times. When I felt that I was too strange for this world, I would sit with my books around me and read about those different kinds of people, different kinds of behavior, and I would realize that I wasn't alone, everybody had one little thing that made they tick different from others, they just were better at hiding it. Although the world tried to put it in little boxes, we are more than that.
At the end, my mom was glad that I decided to move out, she thought that maybe the distance would make the heart grow fonder, which happened, not in large scale, although we were closer than we had ever been when we lived together.
I missed dad almost everyday, although in London, we would only see each other three times a week, however when you are far away from a person you care for, suddenly you miss them more than you normally would. He and Mom were not fans of New York, so we usually met on common ground, like Paris or Vienna, where everybody would feel happy.
My life in New York was everything I thought it would be. I was relatively happy, I had finally understood that… I would never discover who I was because I was in constant change. I would take several pieces of personality from people around me, from the characters of books or movies and I would adapt it, make it a piece of me. I was like a scrapbook, made of moments of others that when put together, made a good arrangement.
Everything was going fine and boring, the way I liked. Until, several people entered my life, changing everything in the perfect life I had created to me. Don't worry, I don't mean it in the bad way.
This is a test chapter, just to see if people get interested in the story. If I get response I will continue it, if not, I will just delete this in a few days. Good week