I’ve been having a hard time adjusting
I had the shiniest wheels, now they are rusting
I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back
I have a lot of regrets about that
Pulled the car off the road to the lookout
Could’ve followed my fears all the way down
And maybe I don’t quite know what to say
But I’m here in your doorway
I just wanted you to know that this is me trying
I just wanted you to know that this is me trying, at least am trying
Am in my old rusty beetle driving home. The road is deserted, a route rarely used. I like it like this, in the peace of my car, just noise from birds chirping, trees swaying, music playing in the stereo of my beat up car. This particular song playing is one of my favorite tracks of Taylor Swift. It matches my emotional stability, I have been trying, am trying, at least. The road is long and calm, soft, too soft that my old cranky car doesn’t make a noise. The wind is at its best today, its energy matching with the rhythm of Taylor’s voice. It’s refreshing, kind that cools my mind from the blowing steam in my life. Oh, how I would love to be on the road forever, to escape the invisible prison am in, to escape all my woes, to have my strawberry blonde hair blown off by the wind. To have my little peaceful world, in the serenity of my little wood house near the lake.
How I would love to get out of this little town or at least have some people leave this town to have my sanity back. I want to get away, I want to be free, I want to bask in the sun without daggers being thrown my way. I want to run into the lake with my bikini on and feel the water hold my body. I want the tranquility that comes with the lake’s water touching your skin. I want to be able to share my secrets with the lake. I want to dive into the lake naked, wearing nothing, getting my hair wet, to freeze in the cold waters during the night. I want to lie on the shore of the lake naked, watching the stars, reflecting my thoughts, planning my adventures, all those places I want to explore. I want it all
But am on my way home, a house where I grew up, a house that holds devastating flashbacks, home, a home full of chaos. Am going home to a despicable woman, a woman who has taunted me my whole 19 years of breathing. A woman who has nothing but hate for me. A woman who curses the night I came into this world, a woman who would so much love it if I got hit by a truck and died. A woman who has seen me at my worst and enjoyed every glimpse of it. A woman who compares me to the local hookers at Tandy’s bar. But this woman, I have blood ties with her, she’s bound to me forever. This woman is my mother’s mother, my grandmother. Calling her grandmother sickens me, she doesn’t deserve that title, not even the mother one. Parenting is definitely not her thing. She hates me, hates me for being a product of an illicit affair. An affair, to me I think was out of love, out of sincere genuine love but wrong because there was a third party involved. An affair my mother told me about countless times, she talked about the man she loved, the man who is my father, the man whose daughter I am.
The man who am not familiar with yet because that damned wretched woman called Marie told him I was still birth when he came looking for me and my mother. She even had the audacity to lie to my father that my mother got fed up of life in this little town, packed up and left for Kansas City to see what she could make out of her torturous life. He left never to comeback. I want to find him, Bruce Murphy, I want to find my father, tell him that am alive, tell him how much my mother loved him to her dying day. I want to embrace my father, I want to breakdown in his arms, to tell him how Marie has made my life unbearable, how she has tampered with my sanity. I want to tell him everything.
I want to meet my stepbrothers; I want to tell them how much I have adored them all these years they didn’t know of my existence. I want to tell them how much my mother joyfully talked about them. My stepbrothers, Randy and Niall. I want to go out with my brothers, to a local bar or something, for me to hear them talk about how they grew up over beer. I want to hear Niall sing, mum told me he has an angelic voice. I want to go on adventures with Randy, I was told he’s more calm and that nature has always fascinated him. He’s just like me, nature has always been my refuge. I want to take pictures of Randy while he is trying to paint a rock, or to capture him running after a deer in the forest. To capture him as he falls down on his butt trying to catch a wild animal, or him trying to adjust his shorts while he plunges into a waterfall. Randy and Niall, I want them to beat up the guy who breaks my heart, I would really enjoy that scene seeing my brothers stand up for me.
But most off all I want to make them pancakes in the morning, make their coffee how they like it. I want to wake them up with my annoying siren of a mouth, I want to do their laundry. I want to go on numerous road trips with them, to talk about dreams, to tell them all my girlish fantasies, to tell them how I want to fall irrevocably in love, how I would love to say the term ‘’My man’’ when am referring to him, how I want to experience love as Ellie Goulding describes it. To have them correct me when am wrong, to have them scold me when I accidently run into the neighbor’s dog. I want to get drunk with my brothers and run into the fields, crash into the barn. Lie there, looking at the stars, talking whatever drunkards talk about.
I want Gina to accept me. I know my mother was the problem in her marriage. I know she took away her husband. I know she cried on endless nights, cursing my mother, tossing out blames, drunk in heartache. I know my mother did her wrong but I want her to love me and accept me as her own. I want her to guide me, counsel me, warn me about men. I want her to embrace me, I want her to see that I deeply regret the affair that took place twenty-one years ago. Am just a product, if it was up to me I wouldn’t want to see her ache again. My mother told me if ever get the chance to meet her that I should ask her to reconsider forgiving her. My mother said to tell her that she is deeply sorry, that she can’t justify her actions, that she is sorry that she let her emotions ruin her home. I will do everything possible to win her affection, I will, even if she shuns me and torments me, I will have her grace me with me love.
Am here, am home. I pull into the driveway. I grip the steering wheel. I let out a sigh, time to get back into my prison taunted by Marie’s demons.
