Status: In Progress
We're All Misunderstood
Josh
All the things that I've done for the matter of love caused me nothing but trouble. I've once had the most beautiful girl that I've ever laid eyes on, but then I had to go and fuck it all up.
I was raised in a world where I thought of love in a different way, I've never realized how fucked up it was till last June, at Livvy's brother's annual summer break party. My idea of love was violent in every way possible, the family I came from was so messed up that it makes me want to throw up every single fucking time I remember that I'm a part of them. My many greats grandparents thought of woman as furniture, as in as long as you give me something, I'll give you my girl and you do whatever you want with her. I've never appreciated women as much as I do now.
My father took my mother from her parents, and every night I'd listen to her cry, every night my father would rape her, and I'd listen to everything through the thin wall that separates our bedrooms. I thought it was natural, I thought it was love, I thought that that's what you're supposed to do to your loved ones. So I did do it to my loved one, Livvy, and there's not a thing that I regret most in life.
Call me a bastard, call me a freak, call me anything you'd want, I know who I am, and I know that you're true. Livvy told no one about what happened, and so did I, but I can see how sad she is, and I can see how on the verge of crying she looks every time. The sexy skin tight outfits she was used to wear before were gone, now replaced by the ugly sweats and the gigantic hoodie, that she wears every single day. Who is to blame her, though? She probably doesn't even feel like herself anymore, she probably cries every single night after it happened, she've probably started cutting, and developed suicidal thoughts, at least I know I have. I took the bright happy girl inside of her and made her deflated, made her torn, I take the blame for everything she's going through right now, I broke her, and now she knows how ugly the reality is. I just want to hug her, and tell her that I love her, and that everything will be ok, but I don't even have the nerve to walk up to her, definitely not with the way that she keeps looking at me, the look of disenchantment and disappointment.
I used to see a therapist, but then I stopped because the sessions were way too expensive for the 75$ I make every good month from working at my uncle's garage. But, she did suggest me a support group that her friend from college was holding, and it's completely free; she just wants to help people. I figured that I should go considering that it's probably the only way possible to stop feeling what I'm feeling. I need to feel less shitty about myself. I don't like who I am, or how I was raised. I want nothing to do with the current Joshua. I want to become a completely different person, cause maybe then Livvy would like me.
I work at my uncle's garage for 5 hours a day, from 4 to 10, but today I told him that I had this thing, but I did not tell him what it was, and he let me go after telling me that I'm going to be working a night shift, if I didn't work my regular shift. I said that it was fine, and he let me go.
The thing about my uncle, Jim, is that he's different; he doesn't believe in buying women like the rest of my family, which is what I like about him. He's the most understanding person from the entire Hart's family.
It was around 4:15ish when he finally let me go, after listening to his lecture about being late to work, and how important the garage is to him. I had no time to go change, so I decided that I'd just go in my uniform onesie that was covered in all types of oils and dust.
I got to the address, which was Mitchell's old diner, I used to work for him for a couple of months but then he died. I'm always going to miss him, though. He was like a better father to me in a couple of months, than my actual father was for eighteen years. It was my first job, and I was a little clumsy a bastard, but he still told me that I was doing fine, which is what kept me going.
I opened the door, and found 3 familiar-looking gals standing in front of me, none of them realized I was there yet, but I recognized them all, one was Andria Stewart, I remember her, we were in a play together. The second, I didn't recognize at first, I guess because she doesn't have her headscarf on but it was the muslim chick, Lana Lewis. And, the third one, I recognized her by her brownish, purplish, reddish hair, that was Olivia Wilson. My Olivia Wilson, my Livvy. I can't believe I made her depressed enough for her to take support group sessions to feel better about herself. I did that to her. I did that to my Livvy.
'Hello there, young man. Are you Joshua or Quinn?' a little older lady popped up out of nowhere and said, she appeared to be Lucinda. At that moment I wished I could turn to fluid. I just want to disappear, and not have Livvy look at me with those eyes.
'J-Joshua.' I said stuttering.
'I'm Lucinda, nice to meet you, Joshua.' she said as she pointed out her hand to my face.
I shook it, and just nodded in a form of agreement.
'Alright, now we'll just have to wait for one more person, and then we'd start.' said Lucinda in a cheerful way.
I was raised in a world where I thought of love in a different way, I've never realized how fucked up it was till last June, at Livvy's brother's annual summer break party. My idea of love was violent in every way possible, the family I came from was so messed up that it makes me want to throw up every single fucking time I remember that I'm a part of them. My many greats grandparents thought of woman as furniture, as in as long as you give me something, I'll give you my girl and you do whatever you want with her. I've never appreciated women as much as I do now.
My father took my mother from her parents, and every night I'd listen to her cry, every night my father would rape her, and I'd listen to everything through the thin wall that separates our bedrooms. I thought it was natural, I thought it was love, I thought that that's what you're supposed to do to your loved ones. So I did do it to my loved one, Livvy, and there's not a thing that I regret most in life.
Call me a bastard, call me a freak, call me anything you'd want, I know who I am, and I know that you're true. Livvy told no one about what happened, and so did I, but I can see how sad she is, and I can see how on the verge of crying she looks every time. The sexy skin tight outfits she was used to wear before were gone, now replaced by the ugly sweats and the gigantic hoodie, that she wears every single day. Who is to blame her, though? She probably doesn't even feel like herself anymore, she probably cries every single night after it happened, she've probably started cutting, and developed suicidal thoughts, at least I know I have. I took the bright happy girl inside of her and made her deflated, made her torn, I take the blame for everything she's going through right now, I broke her, and now she knows how ugly the reality is. I just want to hug her, and tell her that I love her, and that everything will be ok, but I don't even have the nerve to walk up to her, definitely not with the way that she keeps looking at me, the look of disenchantment and disappointment.
I used to see a therapist, but then I stopped because the sessions were way too expensive for the 75$ I make every good month from working at my uncle's garage. But, she did suggest me a support group that her friend from college was holding, and it's completely free; she just wants to help people. I figured that I should go considering that it's probably the only way possible to stop feeling what I'm feeling. I need to feel less shitty about myself. I don't like who I am, or how I was raised. I want nothing to do with the current Joshua. I want to become a completely different person, cause maybe then Livvy would like me.
I work at my uncle's garage for 5 hours a day, from 4 to 10, but today I told him that I had this thing, but I did not tell him what it was, and he let me go after telling me that I'm going to be working a night shift, if I didn't work my regular shift. I said that it was fine, and he let me go.
The thing about my uncle, Jim, is that he's different; he doesn't believe in buying women like the rest of my family, which is what I like about him. He's the most understanding person from the entire Hart's family.
It was around 4:15ish when he finally let me go, after listening to his lecture about being late to work, and how important the garage is to him. I had no time to go change, so I decided that I'd just go in my uniform onesie that was covered in all types of oils and dust.
I got to the address, which was Mitchell's old diner, I used to work for him for a couple of months but then he died. I'm always going to miss him, though. He was like a better father to me in a couple of months, than my actual father was for eighteen years. It was my first job, and I was a little clumsy a bastard, but he still told me that I was doing fine, which is what kept me going.
I opened the door, and found 3 familiar-looking gals standing in front of me, none of them realized I was there yet, but I recognized them all, one was Andria Stewart, I remember her, we were in a play together. The second, I didn't recognize at first, I guess because she doesn't have her headscarf on but it was the muslim chick, Lana Lewis. And, the third one, I recognized her by her brownish, purplish, reddish hair, that was Olivia Wilson. My Olivia Wilson, my Livvy. I can't believe I made her depressed enough for her to take support group sessions to feel better about herself. I did that to her. I did that to my Livvy.
'Hello there, young man. Are you Joshua or Quinn?' a little older lady popped up out of nowhere and said, she appeared to be Lucinda. At that moment I wished I could turn to fluid. I just want to disappear, and not have Livvy look at me with those eyes.
'J-Joshua.' I said stuttering.
'I'm Lucinda, nice to meet you, Joshua.' she said as she pointed out her hand to my face.
I shook it, and just nodded in a form of agreement.
'Alright, now we'll just have to wait for one more person, and then we'd start.' said Lucinda in a cheerful way.