Watching

I saw my father this weekend. On Fridays we went to the mall. My whole “second” family and I went to the mall. My father and I drove there to meet them and that was nice. Alone we can talk and laugh and joke and then we stepped into the mall and he frantically looked around to find everyone he found them and they handed me a cell phone and told me I could go and look around.

I know they were just trying to be considerate that there’s this whole language barrier thing that separates us I was going to follow them but then started to feel uncomfortable as they handed me this cell phone and so I took it and walked around all alone.

I’ve finally realized why the holiday season has the highest suicide rate. Seriously walking around all alone while everyone else laughed and shopped and planned I seriously contemplated crawling over the railing and jumping down to the levels below to because I wanted to kill myself but just to throw that twisted little image into their minds forever destroying the holiday season for them.

Instead I walked into a bookstore where I walked around for nearly an hour trying hard to avoid all of the preteens running around being loud and obnoxious pointing at some art book with nudes in it. I noticed the clerk watching me like I was stealing but I wasn’t probably wondering what the hell I was doing alone looking like I wanted to kill someone.

He walked by me four times pausing once reading over my shoulder as I stared mindlessly at some science fiction book. I finally got fed up with the strange guy in need of a shower with greasy black hair and black plastic rimmed glasses and grabbed a book about serial killers and headed up to the counter.

He smiled at me as he rang the book up and he said something I couldn’t really hear so I just smiled and nodded. Then he looked down at the book for a minute too long and stuffed it into the bag. I took it and smiled again he faltered for a second and then smiled back.

I guess that was my little holiday rebellion. I freaked the poor kid out. Although he was following me around the shop. That was creepy I don’t care if he was only doing his job. I was wearing a small jacket and not once did I remove my pocket book from my shoulder to arise suspicions. He should have been following the gaggle of girls who were wondering around aimlessly touching and knocking everything over.

I walked around for nearly another hour until I caught sight of my family again. They were walking and talking in a language I didn’t understand laughing slightly and helping each other out with things and I thought to myself. That’s a family.

It looks warm and safe and I’m a part of that. Yet here I am somewhat on the outside looking in. It’s like that where ever I go. To which ever parent’s house I go to stuck between two places it’s odd. I suppose that’s the way it’ll be until I suddenly fall into a family I’ve created.

I just wish it didn’t bother me so much. I’m an adult now why the hell should this still bother me? I know they love me. I know they welcome me into their homes and holiday fun and for birthday parties and such I just don’t really belong and why the hell does that bother me.

I know that if I did. If somehow I became an important facet of their family dynamic I would hate it. I would feel trapped and want to run. Yet being just on the fringe of it all seems to be just as maddening. I suppose you can’t win for trying and people will bitch regardless of what they have or don’t have.