I seem to be in a weird transitional mood lately. I’ve been thinking a lot about my childhood lately as well as my decision to go away to school. I am no longer completely convinced that I made the right choice. I’m extremely confused though, because there are so many factors to consider. I don’t regret moving away in the first place. In many ways it was necessary, and I am being completely honest and serious when I say…it might have even saved my life. Staying at home would have been bad news, and I don’t want to even think about what could have happened if I had. I’ve been missing them a lot lately and wishing that I could see them more often. But now I don’t know what to think.

I could never live with my mom or dad ever again. I know now that is just plain asking for trouble, but I find myself missing them more and more recently. But then I think back to what things were like growing up around them, and I’m afraid that if I went back things would be exactly the same. I always loved them, and I knew they loved me, but every day I wish things could have been different. My parents divorced when I was six, which is quite possibly the worst age that could have happened to me. And ever since then there has been an air of bitterness that has hung over the family, at least where I was concerned. I understood why they left each other and accepted it pretty quickly. An oddly enough I never once wished that they would get back together. I didn’t want to hear those screams ever again.

Time passed. I adjusted and got on with life, what little left of it there was. Many things happened between then and now, things I deeply wish never had. But there was never anything I could do about it, so I just accepted it…But I was never ok with it. I found moving away from my parents helped things a lot. I began to open up and enjoy life more, and I met some really wonderful people. But every once in a while I would get invited to a friend’s house and I would see things that I didn’t know how to handle. I’d meet their parents and they would be ready and willing to allow me to participate in whatever was going on. This was a new feeling for me, one that I enjoyed even though I wasn’t really sure how to react to it. But if I ever got the chance when I was visiting a friend’s house I would slip away and snoop around. Not like go through peoples’ desks or rummage through their closets or anything. I just read the titles of the books on their shelves and things like that. Being the natural psychology major that I am I always want to know as much about a person as possible. So I would look around and see what I could learn. And then I’d see the pictures, and my heart would grow heavy. I’d see the family photos of vacations they’ve taken and reunions and parties they’ve had. I’d look at the smiling faces and the goofy pictures. I’d look at the great camping trips with everyone decked out in their gear. I’d see the birthday parties and the Christmas celebrations. Everyone would look so happy. I would feel happy for the family…and then I would feel really sad and slightly jealous. My family never did anything like that all the while I was growing up. If you were to look at our photo albums you wouldn’t find anything. If pictures were historical evidence my family wouldn’t exist between 1991 and the year 2000.

This would bring me down to no end, because this was all I ever really wanted. I wanted to feel like I had a real family. I wanted to feel like things were truly good instead of the web of lies that we’d woven to hide what was really going on. I wanted to go somewhere. I wanted my family to do things. I wanted to feel like I had a home.

I didn’t want to stay at latchkey every day after school until six or seven o’clock. I didn’t want to stay home alone all night cooking for myself while my parents went out to parties or on dates. I didn’t want any of that…but that’s what happened. The grass really is greener on the other side of the fence.

And I think of all this and more and I honestly don’t know what the right choice is. I miss my family…but I honestly don’t know why.