Dear Diary,
Today I got into another fight with Raph, and it was the worse kind. The kind where the accusations are true.
When the accusations are true, you can't defend yourself. You can't say that your opponent is wrong, because they aren't. You can't brush away their pointed statements, because their aim is true. You can't prove them wrong, you can only try to justify your actions. And often, they will not listen to you, or say that you were misguided and wrong.
Today's fight was one of those fights, the ones that settle beneath your skin and burrow into your heart, because you know they are right. Yet you can not abandon your guns, so you do your best to convince yourself that you are right, and you fight back.
This feud, Raph accused me of never being around, of always training. He said I never do anything with them anymore. He said that I train non-stop, that I always deny having any fun or cutting loose, that I even try to take away fun from them too. He said I act like it would kill me to "take time out of acting like the superior, perfect son" to be with him and Donnie and Mikey.
He spat the word perfect at me like it was dirty, a curse and an insult.
I fought back. I denied it all.
I don't know if I'm right.
I mean, I know I'm right about my intentions. I love my brothers with my entire soul. I love them so much it hurts. I do not see myself superior in any way. If anything, they are superior to me.
I certainly do not see myself as perfect either. Everyday I am reminded about how flawed I am. All I have to do is look in the mirror, or at one of my brothers. We all carry scars that show any onlooker of failures in battle, failures I could have prevented had I been better. Had I been smarter, or faster, or braver, I could have saved our family so much pain.
So Raph's claims of my intentions are completely false, and I can rest easy knowing that I was not lying when I protested them. But his claims of my actions . . . Those are not so easily waved away.
Yesterday, I woke up, I trained alone, I ate breakfast, I trained with my brothers, then trained alone again, then meditated until lunch. After that, I meditated a while longer, trained, watched a half hour of TV and read for another hour, then trained until dinner, after which I turned in early to read some more before patrol. After patrol, I read myself to sleep.
The majority of my day was training, training alone.
After my fight with Raph, we went our separate ways, Raph to the surface, and me to my room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Donnie and Mikey poke their heads out of hiding places, where they had obviously eavesdropped on out argument. Well, maybe not eavesdropped. People in Jersey probably could've heard our shouts. When I had reached my room, I had simply laid down on my bed and tried to process yet another fight. I must have laid there for who knows how long before rolling to my feet and pulling out this journal, my favorite release for my emotions.
I'm so afraid that Raph is right. I do spend most of my free time training, and when I'm not training, I'm usually doing solitary activities. I can't help that though. I'm a solitary person. I like to read and to watch a little TV, to be alone (but not lonely). I retreat to my room and let my emotions remain confined, let them swirl around me and me alone, while Raph hangs them out for everyone to see, usually in a destructive rampage (heaven help anyone who gets in his way).
But I do train far more than necessary for my brothers. Nearly every spare moment of mine is used to train, to prepare for battle. I set time away for reading and a couple other things, but not much in comparison to my brothers relaxation time. Every minute of my day I have planned. Rarely does that plan include my brothers.
I try to remember the last time I purposely hung out with them, did something with them as their brother, not their leader. It shames me that I cannot remember. I have immersed myself in my training, practicing harder and longer, and that time has been stolen from time spent with my brothers. As I devote myself to the way of the ninja, I forget my everyday duties as a brother.
Guilt is eating away at me, from the inside out. Raph's words are echoing in my mind, piercing my heart and filling me with their venom. They are true. Completely and totally true. But not for the reason Raph thinks they are.
Raph seems to believe I train out of some desire to be the perfect son, to show them up. That I see myself as above them. But that could not be more false. If anything, they are above me. They don't have to work to be brilliant at what they do. They are so gifted, their talents come so naturally to them. I must work harder than anyone else to do what I can. Mikey is so athletically gifted. He's a natural, so much raw potential. Donnie is a genius, ideas coming to him with every breath he takes. He would be world famous if he were human, winning awards and creating inventions to save the world and everyone in it. And Raph . . . He's so strong and stubborn, he can do anything when he puts his mind to it. He's so passionate about everything. Me? I am average. I am the best at ninjitsu, but I have to work at it, struggle every step of the way to make it look as effortless as I do.
Why, then, do I devote such time to it? I do it for my brothers.
I am the leader, and I am the eldest. It is my duty to protect them with every breath, to keep them safe to my last moment. To protect them, I have to be my best. I have to be the best. I have to do everything I can so that when our enemies strike, I can strike back harder, and defend my brothers. If anything happened to them . . . . I would never be able to forgive myself. If it means sacrificing myself both in life and death, so be it. I will protect my brothers.
I haven't realized until now just how much I've been shutting my brothers out in the process. Because I have to train so much to stay at the top of my game, I steal time that should be used for being with my brothers.
I knew I was willing to sacrifice myself, but my bond with my brothers . . . . That should never be sacrificed.
I just can't help it, though. I need to be able to protect my brothers against the world. How can I do that without my ninjitsu? Without my skill as a ninja, I'm useless to them, and they could pay for my weakness with their lives. I have to become strong, to keep them safe.
Raphael doesn't see it that way, though. He doesn't understand why I train every spare moment. It's not out of some twisted sense of superiority or being a suck-up. It's for him. And for Donnie, and Mikey, and even April and Casey. I have been cast as the leader, and I must live up to the role. I can not fail at this. I can't. I must be able to keep my team safe, to keep my family safe.
I have known this for a long time now, since we first encountered the Kraang and the Foot. I have been doing what I thought was right, what I had thought was the only way to keep my family safe. Even now, I know that I have to train all I can. But . . .
But Raph's words ring true. I can not continue to shut myself away from my brothers, to ignore them in favor of constant training. I may be willing to sacrifice myself for the team, but I don't think - I hope - the team isnt willing to sacrifice me. I need to be with them for more than just training, patrol and meals. Is there a point to being their brother if I never act like it in daily life?
From this point forward, I will make more of an effort to be with my brothers, to relax with them, to talk with them. Mind you, I will continue training rigorously. No matter what Raph may say, my training is important, and I must not be allowed to slack, or they may pay for it. But I will ease a little, and try to be a better brother to my family. Not just the leader I am trying to become.
I will start this very moment.
Sayonara for now,
Leonardo
