I have a horrible guilt complex, I swear. I feel like I should be more grateful, more excited. I do miss them on occasion, but I never show it. I feel like I should have been more expressive in my goodbyes.
Do you ever get that feeling and horrible thought, whenever someone leaves and is about to embark on a long or semi-long journey (over 2 hours or something) where you think that this could be your last chance to say goodbye? I always do. I always consider the fact that they could get in a car accident, or that something will happen to them before I see them again. It scares the everliving shit out of me. Makes me feel like I take everything for granted and that I should go apologize right. now. That, and profess my love and appreciation for everyone and everything but if I did that every time someone left, I would be the craziest of the crazies in Crazytown. Don't you even deny it. It would be weird, and you'd probably try to lock me up.
I can rationalize these things, and realize that such an impulse is bizarre as well as supremely paranoic and therefore I won't explode in an emotional burst of sap...but it doesn't make me feel like any less of a freak.
I've got really strange emotions surrounding my family as well, because - while I love them very much - we don't necessarily get along. This is compounded because of the fact that I'm the seafoam green sheep of the family. No exaggeration. No lie. I'm just that "thpethal."
Historically, our interactions have been enjoyable or at least tolerable, but inevitably they will dissolve and the social climate will turn absolutely disastrous if we're around each other for too long, and God only knows how long "too long' is. It can be 4 days, or it can be 4 hours. There are a lot of hostile memories to work through, and I still have a fair bit of animosity and anxiety that I need to purge from my memory and self. I hope it goes away sometime, but I know it's going to take time.
Yet, time scares me because my father is getting really old and it kills me to see that happen. My mom, being 10 years younger than him doesn't seem old yet. He, however, is really starting to show it and I worry about his health. I worry about my brother getting older but still living out of my parent's basement. He's fallen victim to that poison seeping through all of Cambridge and Deerfield. It kills ambition, and eventually it just chokes the life out of everything. I'm worried about my Mom pulling herself out of her midlife crisis. They're solid people. They're good people. They're my family, and I really have no idea what the hell to do with them.
Also, I hate Freud. Can I get an amen, somebody?