It begins! I plan on blogging every day in November. My goal is to write creatively each day this month. I hope to focus on one story, but I realize that sometimes what I post may not seem to relate to the story told so far. Feel free to ask questions, but realize they may get answered much later on. If you think you know where the story is headed, try to not spoil it for others! Lol. Here we go:
November 1, 2015
Life shouldn’t be this hard, should it? I mean, I have a pretty easy life compared to most people, and still I have days when I wonder – when is it going to get easier?
For me, I think this mindset started the day I was born. I came kicking and screaming into this world, demanding everything … and everything was given to me without question. I didn’t even have to ask. My parents would just figure it out. Diaper change? Feeding? Rocking? Singing? They’d try it all until they’d find whatever I was wanting, and I’d be calm for five minutes. But then I’d get needy again, and start their whole dance back into motion. By the time I was three months old, I could have told them what I wanted, but I was a real jerk at that age and refused to talk until I was almost two. Luckily, they liked me anyway.
Their willingness to please me was endearing, of course, but it engrained in me this unhealthy expectation that life would provide whatever I need, when I need it. I came to expect that, rely on it. It sucked getting older, let me tell you! Having to learn to walk, talk, get dressed, feed myself, take myself to the bathroom … damn! That’s asking a lot. My parents referred to those years as “the terrible twos.” I’ll say! I hated having to become so independent. I don’t think I ever got over it, either.
The next ten years or so were a tug-a-war between me wanting my parents to do it all for me, and them wanting me to be self-reliant. Then, when I finally started to embrace the idea of being independent, they laid all these rules on me of what I can and can’t do. Seriously? Being a teenager became a daily battle of wills with them. By the time I was an adult, though, my parents felt like they’d won. They’d turned me into a responsible, productive member of society. Or so they thought. Between you and me, I still get annoyed when I cry and no one else steps up to immediately solve the problem for me. What a waste of energy crying is. Cathartic, my eye!
So they set me loose on the world, expecting me to do great things. And what have I done? Nothing. Not a damn thing. Well, let me rephrase that. I’ve done a ton of stuff over the years, but nothing that they’d hoped I’d do. I’ve had a lot of fun. I avoid responsibility like the plague. I hate being an adult.
Everything I do has consequences. I mean, everything. Mostly because the whole world notices me. I’m one of only a handful of first gens on the planet at the moment. So everyone treats me like I’m still a kid. Even strangers have an opinion on what I should be doing, and I hate being told what to do. Sometimes I wish I’d grown up on Mars! I wouldn’t mind it as much if Immortals were the only ones treating me like I’m a child. Everyone must seem like a child to them, after all.
Ben keeps telling me, “Hale, people will treat you like an adult when you start acting like one.” I usually stick my tongue out at him when he says that. He feels more like a second dad than a brother when he tries to lecture me. He’s been a really great brother, though. I hope he doesn’t die today. Or his wife.
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