Finding The Balance- Part One, Chapter Four

When I came to high school, it was a very surreal experience. My elementary school "buddies" made me look like a fool, and found their new friends. Junior high was a rough transition for me. I started questioning everything, ya know? I didn't know how to handle what was coming. It was frightful. Sorry. I'm getting off topic again.

I should probably get you up to date on what has happened up to this point. The party where I met Jane happened over the first weekend of June after I graduated from high school. Up until then it has been pretty crazy.

I said that my father and I never had a good relationship, and that never really bothered me. It was just the way he acted, and treated people. I didn't care that I didn't have this superhero-esque dad, off to save the day and care about me. I had never known what that was, so I didn't know what I was missing. But. He was just this huge prick all the goddamn time. I finally spoke up to him the night of what should have been my senior prom. But this huge fight happened and whatnot.

"Ken, I don't deserve to be treated this way anymore. You've pushed me around for far too long. I'm your son, for Chrissakes." He replied," You don't deserve s**t. I feed you. I clothe you. I buy all your uneccesary bullshit you cry about all the time. I put up with all of your s**t. I'm not your buddy. I'm your f*****g dad."
See, when I have conversations with him, I'm always thinking of what I'd really like to say to him. I can't actually say things like I want to in front of him though. I mean. I don't love him. Hell, I don't even like him. But I don't want to hurt him, ya know? I feel that maybe if I just put up with some s**t, maybe he'll come to his senses.
This whole time I'm saying in my head," I f*****g hate you, I'm leaving when I'm eighteen, I'm gonna bash you're f*****g brains in." But, in reality, I just nodded my head in acceptance while mechanically repeating "Yessir, Nossir, Sorrysir", while receiving a bullshit concocted lecture about how I had no resonsibility and am going no where in life, and I have to move the f**k out because he can't put up with me anymore.

This fight, prolly more than any other I'd ever gotten into with that man, was probably the one that impacted me the most. It really did change me. I believe it for a fact. I became more increasingly apathetic, but also highly motivated. I didn't care about pretty much anything. I cared about getting out, growing up, getting my own place, and making a lot of money. I wanted the American Dream. However, I was starting to lose it. My mind just wasn't working the way it used to. The irrationality of my thoughts and action was scary. I would say things like," I'm starting to lose it." Or, " Lock me up, man, I'm going crazy." But no one really listened. Everyone seemed to be off in their own little world. And my little world was starting to grow dimmer by the minute after that f*****g night.

That prolly wasn't the best night I'd had in a while. Actually, everything was going really well up until that particular moment in my shallow life. I had been having an awesome senior year. This year really captured the essence of what it meant to be young, to be crazy, to not care, to dream, to feel free. It made up for every other year of my existance.