Smashing the rock
I'm sure nobody is unknowing of the angst of your teen years, you're vulnerable, you're exceedingly sharp but unwittingly at a miss, everything upsets you but you can move a mountain, words bring you to tears but yet, it's addictively exciting, context dependent of course.
You're malleable, not mouldable. You're fragile, fearful but also faithful, not in religion (necessarily) but in the people you hold dear.
Pubilius Syrus told the old fable of a rolling stone, but what type of stone? What rock constitues your roll, (terrible pun and feel free to quote.)
As we move through life we have pitfalls, always. When you, the rock, falls too far, you crack. Fall too many times, you smash. You don't shatter or fragment, because the force it takes to break a rock is much more that of glass or metal, but it is the mettle inside of you that lasts until the very last.
I was a big rock, I was a boulder, my moss added character, overgrown at times, it made me unique, I owned my moss, I probably could have learned to love it too.
I have no moss now.
Every time I change course I am smashed, I scatter my pebbles, and as they wash through the current, I see there is too much moisture, my moss drowns and is washed away. Pebbles turn to grit and float along the tide. As I drift along the rip, I am worn by the persistant waves of my new country, leaving pieces behind in every state, I'm so smoothed now, moss refuses to grow upon me.
I am a stone, but from the U.K. I was one stone too many.
The crap thing about childhood resentment is that you don't realise it until you're an adult (if you're 'lucky' enough to realize it at all) I was my age now minus 5 days since I came to terms with it out loud and trust me, it's been eating away at me ever since.
I think the biggest issue with the way in which I resent my nuclear family is the circumstance of which I am refused closure, I can't go back and say "would life have been better if I had stayed in Britain? Or would I have been as miserable? Am I destined to be miserable or was I a typical fourteen year old boy who, of course, is going to be miserable, but learn a lot about himself"
Well, I was robbed of finding that out, because as a 14 year old until you finish high school you're trapped whilst spending the most important years of developing your identity thinking "what the hell is going on?"
If some of this is incoherent, well... I guess that's the point. Making sense of this is the hardest thing to do because I've spent a while pretending, or convincing myself, that everything was fine.
But what is the objective empirical truth?
1. As a teenager I had both male and female acquaintences who served as pills on the playground (if you'd like an obvious translation, they solved the symptoms of the issue but not the underlying cause)
2. I learned very quickly the disparity of culture, in that here, in my new country, the unspoken game of socials is that eventually the goal is to pair up and die (socially). I called this process "hancocking," not because of the congressman, but the 2008 movie involving super-powerful aliens, see the movie to get the idea.
3. Being the weird kid (downgraded severely from avant-garde funny kid, self appointed btw I'm sure some people found me very weird), having no social capital meant that obtaining this ultimate objective was fruitless, but it that meant having a "home slice" then by god I'd take that chance.
Well, it didn't happen where my parents lived (and continue to as they by default already have achieved that life-goal) and to this day believe where they live is beautiful.
Me on the other hand moved to the other side of the country and tried again, 18, at university, college campus, ready to mingle.
Mingle I did, a lot I did, achieve I did not.
To what extent am I going to make these entries linear I have no idea, it's how I feel, today I am much better than yesterday and as such probably much more matter of fact and less passionate, however, dear reader, thank you for taking the time of my inane ramblings and frequent spelling errors.