Why do I get so excited to come home, but the second I get home, it just kicks me in the gut? I always feel like I’m sleeping at a halfway house, where everyone is insane. All they ever do is fight, and yell and say horrible aweful things to each other. On Friday, my sister ran away from home, because my step dad told her to get the hell out and start living her life. We found her in Morrisburg. She’s only 14. The whole time my mom was freaking out and trying to think about where she could be, I was thinking: What if she hitchhiked and some psycho picked her up and it slicing her throat right now? Goddamn serial killer books are bringing out the worst in every situation. And it’s like I’m the only one in the house who my sister listens to, but at the same time it’s just as bad for me. My step dad yells at everyone for everything and makes himself out to be the victim when he clearly isn’t. So being at home is a negative experience, but being in Montreal is just as bad, if not worse. Why does negativity follow me wherever I go? I tried so hard to make Montreal work. I tried to be happy. Why can’t I just find a place where I feel at home? Where I can wake up with a smile on my face, even if it’s the worst possible day? JESUS!! No wonder I’m still single. It’s like all the guys worth dating, can smell that my life is a shit hole. I like this one guy and he’s a friend of mine but it’s a complete lost cause because well, I just can never have him. He’s one of those guys that you have a ton of stuff in common with, but he just doesn’t see you as anything more than one of those cool girls who likes Star Wars. I’ve gotten pretty used to that. Maybe that’s why I handle rejection so well; it usually comes from people who end up being my friends. Or it’s just happened so much lately, that I’m numb to it.
Enough depressing talk! It’s a week until Christmas!! Who’s excited? I know I am. What is it about the holidays that makes most people realize how much they miss home? Damn holiday home magnet.