Moving Out

In my culture, there is only two reasons for a girl to be leaving her parents house. One, she is going to marry and she leaves to join her husband’s family. Two, and this one is very unlikely and still hard to see through, she leaves for a better college life.

And the thing is, I don’t fit into any of those categories.

Here is the first thing, I don’t plan on getting married. And this is going to sound contradicting, but I’m not ruling it out either. It’s just that I am not in a place of mind to be thinking about marriage. Marriage, for me, doesn’t mean completion. Marriage, for me, doesn’t mean that life is finally starting. But marriage, for me, doesn’t mean that I am going to be forever stuck as well.

I just haven’t found the person I would like to be forever with, nor do I think it is the time to start looking. When it happens it will happen and I know that there will be no regrets.

Here’s the second thing, I’ve tried college living at home. It doesn’t lead to anything other than depression. The first time I hit depression so hard, it took me months to get over it. The second time I tried my best to not be depressed, but it still came. I have to admit, I’m scared. College scares me. I know I can be good at it, but I know it come with a price as well.

So here is the final question, why am I moving out?

Why am I moving out?

Why?

My parents don’t want me to leave. Honestly, I could live the rest of my life at home and my parents would be okay with it. But do you see the issue with that? I could live THE REST OF MY LIFE at my parents house.

And I know, I know. Who wouldn’t love to live a life full of safety nets? I can buy and do whatever I want, whenever I want, and life would be peachy cause I have parents who takes care of all the bills. Who wouldn’t want that?!

Heck, this is one of the reasons why I waited 24 years before I was pushed into this decision.

Here is another part of this story. I have been conditioned into staying to protect my parents. For over 8 to 9 years all everyone has ever told me was that my parents needed me. And I believed it. My parents relied on me for everything. I had to grow up and I had to change myself over and over again just to satisfy their needs.

But then, you know what happened, my parents mentally and verbally abused me. For years they manipulated their words, and threatened my every thought and action. I couldn’t do anything. All my actions, whether they were purely good or slightly ill intent, were shot down.

I couldn’t even be my own person. I had to be my parents daughter. I had to be the face of my family. I had to be perfect.

That doesn’t sound so bad right? Being perfect.

But perfect is not who I am. I am flawed. And I am perfectly fine with being flawed.

So, what does that have with me moving out? I’ve been wanting to move out since the notion entered my mind when I was 16/17. But I was scared. I’ve been scared of leaving my parents. I’ve been scared of leaving everything I have ever known about my life. My normal was going to be shattered.

My parents need me but don’t want me. My parents want me but don’t need me. It is always one or the other.

They have the need to feel like everything is in their control. So they say things and do stuff that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

And I need to get away from that.

It’s honestly not as bad as it sounds. I’m not in a horrible place. But I don’t feel like I’m really living. I may live in their house, but it isn’t my home. I may have a room, but it really isn’t my room. My parents still feel like they can roam through my junk when they feel like it. And it may just be junk, but it is my junk.

I’m a very private person, other than me writing about my life all the time. But there are limits to my private life. I don’t like knowing that I don’t have a safe spot. And right now, I don’t have a safe spot at all.

So, even though it was my sister’s idea to move out, I am now taking the lead. Even though it was my sister’s plan, I am taking the brute of the aftermath. My parents are acting as if I was the mastermind behind the decision.

My parents know that I am not like any of their other children. I am the one to go out of pattern. The one who may follow their every order but the one to go against every plan they also have.

So, why am I moving out?

I am tired of being pushed and pulled. I am tired of having these expectations without information about what is really going on.

I am tired of not being in control of my life.

A Sad Sunday Story

Sad Sunday Story…!

For the holiday season we always get seasonal people. We rarely ever get men on the floor with us, and this year there was a new guy. Up to this point in my life, I don’t really care about men at work, they are just co-workers. I see them as friends.

Today I was working at the jewelry counter. I was basically stuck to that counter since we aren’t really allowed to leave. The new guy, whom I will name Phil for privacy reasons, was greeting people in the store. That is his main job, to walk through the store and greet people. He is good at it. Phil is friendly and very talkative. Although he is good at what he does, Phil doesn’t like greeting people for hours on end.

Back to the point…

I was stuck in jewelry,  and Phil is walking the floor. We talked here and there, mindless chit chatter just to kill time. I don’t think much of it since I talk to a lot of my co-workers.

But this conversation started to change…

“How long have you been here for?” Phil asked.

“Five years,” I answered, nodding at the crazy number, “But it’s a good place to be.”

“Yes it is, I agree,” he replied.

“Yup. I started when I was 19. Now I’m pretty old.”

“No. Not at all. 24 is not old at all.”

Here I forgot that I was actually 18 when I started, so I gave him a wrong age…

“Yeah I guess.”

“24 is a good age to be.”

“Sure.”

“Yeah, it seems like a lot of people have been here for a while.”

“There are a few of us. Yes,” I said.

“Anna (again, a fake name) has been here four years.”

I thought about it and agreed to the right years of my co-workers working years.

Phil went on, “Ellen (yup another fake name) has been here for three.”

Again I nod and agree. He greets people as they walk by.

“Do you have a second job?” I ask him, “Many of the others, I know, also have second jobs.”

“No. no. This is the only thing I’m doing.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah. I’m actually writing a book.” He said. I get super interested, since it’s pretty out of the ordinary to find someone in the process of writing a story. And for someone to have the same interest as mine. “It takes up most of my time.”

“What is it about?” I continue to ask, just glad to kill time.

“It’s about,” Phil tells me, as he considers where to start, “a man. He is struggling through life, since a lot of bad things have happened to him, a lot of bad relationships. And so he is trying to find the reason why life is so bad and hoping to find happiness in the end. There is a lot of personal stuff and a lot of fiction in it. Not a lot of people have read my works. Only my younger brother, and he’s been saying a lot of exceptional things about it. He’s only 18. It’s been hard to find someone to exchange ideas with. A lot of things in the story has happened to me. I went through a bad marriage, very bad marriage. And after that, I was in a relationship. It was nice since I could throw ideas at her and to get creative feedback from her. But since then, it’s been hard to have no one there for me.”

While he tells his story, I nod and add in appropriate sounds of “okay and uh huh’s”

Phil continues to greet customers.

I had another question for him though, since he was into writing and all. “Did you go to any school for your writing?”

“No, no. I got into it in 7th grade. It was a great passion of mine. I stopped for a while, but then something bad happened to me and I started up again after that. I found that I had gotten a lot better too.”

I nodded, amazed. I was considering telling him that I was writing as well and that I had a similar story to his.

“Okay, I’m gonna take a walk around. I don’t want our manager (who I did not make up a name for since naming characters are hard for me) to think I’m not doing anything.”

“Okay. Yup, that’s fine.”

Phil takes a lap around our store, and honestly it wasn’t long enough. During this time my mind was rushing everywhere. I know I am not the only one to have their thoughts go wild.

What is his reasoning behind telling me all this? He doesn’t have to tell me. Phil was basically bearing his soul to me. Another human being has never done that before. All his weird intimate life stories and he was sharing with me!

I didn’t even care if he was just being friendly, I was starting to like this guy. I didn’t care that he was divorced and had a hard past with other relationships. He was very likable in this moment.

But I toned down my thoughts. I cannot like him too much! I cannot like him at all. It will be a small one-sided crush. He’s just something good to look at!

Why oh why was this happening to me now! I cannot be having a crush, especially on a co-worker nonetheless!

Phil made his round and came back to my counter.

“You’re back,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said.

“How was it?” I said knowing full well how he felt about his position.

“Oh it was just great,” he said sarcastically. “I have to ask,” he continued, changing the topic, “how long have you known Anna?”

“Which Anna? Do you mean Anna M. or Anna X.?” I asked back. We have so many employees who have the same name…

“Anna X. Short Anna,” Phil patted the air showing how short he meant.

“Ahh. Anna. I’ve known her for a while. She went to school with my younger sister and I’ve seen her around. So it’s been a while.”

“Okay.” Phil said, considering the new information he just received.

“I have to ask something, if it’s not too strange.” Phil said.

“Yeah?” I said back. I could feel something different this time though. This relationship I had going on was just about to change. I should have seen it coming, but I was so side tracked, I didn’t see it till it was too late.

“Do you know how old Anna is and if Anna has a boyfriend?”

 

Of course! Or course, when a boy is nice to me it is for something. But I still smile and answered. “I’ve seen her birthday once, and she is around my age. And I don’t know if she has a boyfriend, sorry.”

“No, no. That’s fine.”

Not much is said after that. Stuff was going on in the store and he went to help out. Soon after I was set free from the jewelry counter, and Anna came to replace me. I still had some time before my lunch break so I was helping around on the floor.

In the active department, I was straightening clothes and Phil comes over.

“Hey. I hate to be that guy. But could you figure out if she has a boyfriend?”

“I can try.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I go back to my cleaning and he goes back to greeting customers.

I could not believe what just happened…

I was befriended just for information on one of my coworkers. I thought to what he had just told me. He was basically the main character of his story and he was trying to find happiness, but did he really need my help? If he was searching for it, couldn’t he man up and tell the girl himself.

I wasn’t angry or devastated. I would have been if I had liked him from the very beginning. But my feelings were a five minute blind misunderstanding.

I carried on with my job. Even though I was given a mission, I was still at work and while on the clock my job is my first priority.

Later on while going to my lunch break, he finds me on the floor again.

“Would it be obvious if you asked?” he asked me.

“I think so. But I’ll try not to say your name.” I tell him.

“Okay, yeah.”

We part ways and I go to the break room in the back of the store.

But he wasn’t done talking just yet, he came to the room too, after two minutes.

“I was just thinking and I wouldn’t mind if you said my name. We’re all adults. If she doesn’t like me then its fine. She’s pretty cool, I don’t think she would care. She would probably make a joke later. And I’m totally cool with it.”

“Okay. Yeah. I’m surprised you haven’t said it yourself.”

He laughs and agrees.

We part ways again and I settle down for my lunch. Which I could not swallow. I’ve never been in that sort of situation, my body was clamming up. I didn’t care about him, I was freaking out over the fact that I was just used for some guys own pleasure of finding out if a girl was single.

I waited till later on that night to tell Anna. Unsure of how long the conversation would last, I got my recovery for the zone I was responsible for.

After, I went and found her. I knew I would have to break it to her slowly. Let her figure it out before I said the whole thing. Anna was cleaning up purses, a perfect opportunity since it was in the corner of the store and no one was around.

“Hey Anna,” I said going up to her.

“Hey Lucy. What’s up.”

“So, I have something to ask you,” I said, “It’s gonna be really strange.”

She looked over to me, waiting for me to say what I had to say.

“I’m not sure if you have been noticing it already. I’m sure you have. But what do you think of Phil?”

Anna still doesn’t say anything. I’m sure she was trying to figure out what was going on.

“He want’s me to ask you something.” I said, filling the quiet space.

“Stop,” Anna tells me, “Don’t say it.”

I crouch over and lean on a display, “I don’t want to say it either!”

“Don’t say it. I can see where this is going. Don’t say it.”

“Okay. I really don’t want to say it. I really don’t”

“Tell him you forgot.”

“Okay. If that is what you want. I will tell him that. Cause honestly, I would rather be on your side rather than his.”

I was relieved. I know she would be smart enough to figure it out, Girls have an intuition when it comes to boys liking them. There is a difference in the air. A difference in the way a boy acts towards you.

Anna and I are not extremely close, but we are still are on a good standing term. So I knew she would take it well, and I am glad she took it better than thought she would.

Later on I had to tell her that I hoped our relationship would not be awkward after that. But she was cool with it. She could kind of tell that he liked her…

I won’t see Phil until Thursday…

But honestly, I know I am a nice girl, but he kind of asked the wrong girl to do his dirty work…