Family

People say that you automatically love your family. No matter what they do, it won't matter because you'll still love them in the end. Why? "Because they're family".

Well, that's a load of bull. At least for me.

I can classify my family members into three distinct categories: members that I truly love, members that I love only because I feel complied to, and members that I couldn't love even if I tried.

This goes for family members that are bonded to me through blood and marriage.

I've come to realize that there are only two members of my family that I can say that I truly love. I suppose a part of the reason is because I feel as if I've placed them through such hell, that it would be wrong for me not to love them honestly. Another part is that they've shown me parts of themselves that they haven't masked to make themselves or me feel better about a situation.

Of course one of the two is my mother. Despite the fact that I for several years of my childhood I lived without ever seeing her or talking to her due to circumstances out of my control, living with her last year really cemented our relationship. I don't know how I went so long without her. Sometimes I wonder what if would have been like to live and grow up with my mother and how I would have turned out. Would I have turned out better? Would I not have grown up to be so fucking cynical and angry? Perhaps. Hell, I know she has her faults, but I can get past that because I truly love her.

The second person is my aunt. Anyone who knows me really well knows the kind of pain I put her through during my adolescences. During that time I thought she deserved all the hate I placed upon her because I felt like she hated me right back. I felt as if she resented the fact that she had to raise me even though she wasn't my mother. I think a part of her did, and in fact, I think a part of her still does, but I don't blame her for it. I would resent myself too. But we've both grown and I've grown to appreciate everything she's done for me and even though I can still tell that at times she doesn't trust me and she still looks at me the same way that she did when I was thirteen, I understand and I still love her. And I hope in the future, the new me, the responsible me, will overshadow the horrendous child I was to her in the past.

Then there is the second group of people who I can say that I love, but when I think about it, I don't really think I love them as much as I should. I love them because I feel as if I have to. I love them because I've told myself for so long that I love them. I mean sure, a part of me probably does love them honestly, but for the most part, I feel as if I love them because I have to. This part is made up of most of my family members. Some of them I probably love more honestly than others, like my father and my siblings, but I can't bring myself to love them entirely because they infuriate me. There's a barrier of understanding that I can't seem to overcome, no matter how much I try to empathize.

And in the last group lies one single person. One person in my family that I could never love. One person that I vehemently detest. I'm sure a few of you know who this person is and a few of you know why. Every day of my life I wish I could scream at the top of my lungs the wrongs he has committed, but I can't, because if I did then it would negatively impact everyone in my life and hurt the people that I actually do care about. So to keep them happy and to keep their lives intact, I try and bury my hate as far down as I can. Because I figure I can endure more suffering than they can; I know I can. Sometimes I wish he would just die, but even then I realize that his death would bring pain onto others.

But I think the part that hurts the most, is that some of the people I care about know why I hate him, but their resigned to keep silent because they want to keep the image of the perfect family. So I think they tell themselves that "Oh, Jea will be fine." or they tell me "Jea, just don't say anything, okay? If you say something, everything will be ruined." What am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to say no? Wouldn't that just make me selfish?

Would it be too selfish of me to ask for some recognition of the sacrifices I've made and am making? I just want a thank you. A thank you for the silence I have kept. Maybe it's because you haven't said anything that I resent you for it and can't bring myself to love you fully.

Far Far Away

I've always had this fantasy of going far away on a complete whim. You know, like just spontaneously pack up my bags and leave everything behind. It'd be an adventure. I'd go off to Europe or something. I wouldn't worry about school or bills or whatnot, I'd simply wander around for days, weeks, or months until I felt like it was time to go back. But I can't afford to be so carefree with my life. I have expectations to fulfill. Most, are not my own, I admit. They are the expectations my family and friends and even strangers have laid out for me. I'm supposed to graduate college with good grades. I'm supposed to get a good job. I'm supposed to get married, have kids, and then send my own kids to college. I'm supposed to be monetarily stable so that I can take care of my parents and brother. I'm supposed to do and be a lot of things. I don't mind some of them. I do want to be successful and I want to take care of my family, but sometimes I'm afraid that I'll never have the time to do the things I want. What if I never get to go to backpack through Europe? What if I never get to travel across Asia? I want to be more than what I am right now.