Smile On His Lips and Cuts On His Hips (Jalex)

Fourteen - No Control

My parents had gotten their stereotypical rolls switched; Dad acted as more of a housewife than my mom ever had.  There were four meals that she could make well, and only occasionally cooked on the weekends, whereas my dad would get home and make dinner around three days of the week. He either pulled recipes from magazines, of the internet, or just made something plain and simple. Freezer food and stir fry were frequent populars for nights when no one felt like putting in an effort.

But ideas ran short and he’d always look to the rest of us for suggestions. I, however, could not be less useful when it came to this.

I was incredibly indecisive. So much so that whenever I was asked a question, I would spew out random words that completely avoided actually giving a real answer in order to buy myself more time to think and decide on what the best possible way to go would be. For example, yesterday Zack asked me whether or not I was planning on attending Matt Flyzik’s party on the upcoming Halloween, and I had said ‘I don’t know, maybe’, refused to make a decision, and danced around the topic for the rest of the day.

The fact that I had to think so hard about such simple things to come to a conclusion, was, frankly, fucking ridiculous. Like, it should be really simple because yeah, Flyzik was famous for his kick ass parties and I’d be allowed a free invite from being friends with the school’s star quarterback; I had nothing else to do with my night besides stay home and hand out candy, and I knew that yes, I did want to go. But I was unable to answer with a simple ‘yes’, because what if I found something else to do with that night and ended up flaking out on Zack? I didn’t want to be a terrible friend.

There would be alcohol, which I had little to no experience with, what I looked like an idiot for staying sober? So what if Zack, who’s alcoholic grandpa died of liver cancer, would never touch a drop of the stuff in his life, and was perfectly well respected by everybody for it? How about the reality that my two friends might wander off and leave me alone? It didn’t matter that parties were the optimal place to hang out with all those half friends from school, and that there was about a two percent chance that I would actually manage to end up alone. No, none of that mattered, the ‘what ifs’ stopped me from making snappy decisions, no matter how absurd they were.

So that was how my dad ended up huffing humorously at my incredibly ineffective input and going off to set his stuff down in the little granite cut out between cabinets at the side of our kitchen where his shit always ended up. The speakers he plugged his phone into and played eighties music while cooking where there, perennially next to his clipboard and wallet.

I shrugged to myself and peeked at the time in the lower corner of my computer, clocking that my mom would be home in around an hour. She’d immediately go complain about her accounting job to Dad, and we’d eat sometime after her whining wore itself out. I didn’t have anything against Mom’s venting – everyone has to blow off steam and let out the shit they deal with every now and then – but I was glad to not have it directed at me.

At least she had Dad to put up with it. While it seemed that my parents weren’t exactly in love anymore, they definitely did love each other, and I supposed that was good enough. They were happy in their twenty year marriage.

I wondered if I would ever be with someone for that long. Love another so much that even after the romance diminished, we would still happily spend the rest of our lives together. It didn’t sound too bad, though I liked to think that, maybe, someday, I could find love strong enough that it'd last forever.

I’d like to believe in true love, I really would, trust in that romance of the Disney movies. But I seemed like just that – something from a fairy tale. And how realistic are those?

That night was exceptionally average, nothing special, and quite boring. A lot like me, actually. But despite that, it was a good enough way to end a decent day. It wasn’t like I spent every second of my life tempted to dive off a cliff. The bad moments, those really fucking bleak times when nothing at all mattered, weren’t constant, but they happened often enough.

I didn’t know what brought them on, and that’s scary, isn’t it? Having no control over yourself. Stupid, ‘cause, theoretically, you are the only thing you have total power over. There’s a reason why theory and fact are separate things, I guess.

I often found myself thinking about how I could spend my life divided between contentedness and borderline depression. I didn’t quite see how it was possible, but I suppose what they say is true; anything can happen.

There were so many other impossibilities that I’d rather see come to life, but, be as that may, the world did not care what I wanted. 

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I'm still worried that this story is really just incredibly boring, despite what you guys tell me. I think this chapter is the worst offender on that front, and its probably a really shitty way to come back from a two week break, so I apologize for that. There are just some things that I need to write, and the stuff in this fell into that category. I hope you, by some chance, liked it anyways. Please comment and vote and tell me you didn't fall asleep! 

xoxo

Rose

P.S. My trip was actually amazing! Thank you guys for all the well wishes and for putting up with this chapter's delay, and I had a great time, although I do have a new found appreciation for Cali weather and my bed. Besides that, best week I've had in a long time.