Psychic Stumble

Well. SO much can happen in so little time. I hardly know where to begin. My health is improving, slowly, but surely. I have yet to figure out what triggers the nausea, but the pills help me to keep my food down. I have not exercised since I fell ill (the horror!) and I feel worse everytime I look at my usual exercise spot, so long forgotten. I will be seeing J soon. I will be determinedly polite and civil, regardless of the emotional turmoil the sight of him invokes in me. I had supper with my family yesterday night, on my sister's birthday. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife, I swear. But I was nice and ever so polite, even if a bit frosty. Some deep-seated resentments don't just vanish after a few years. While at the martial arts convention, my mum sought me out from where I was seated in the garden, watching from afar, and we talked. It was lucky my dad wasn't there when I was 'talking' to her, or we would have given those coloured belts a run for their money. She just can't understand my fascination with music and languages, and how I can find beauty in the most mundane things. Philosophy? To her it is a subject as dead as the Latin language, used by men in times long gone. Of course, I am not entirely surprised. Hardly anyone understands me, and sometimes I don't know why I do certain things. I'm sorry, J. It was because of my family that I did what I did that August two years ago. *sigh* I am on the mend, I have been eating regularly, even. But there is still that little hole in my heart to fill, that void that only two men have managed to lessen. At one point during the martial arts meet, my mother told me, "Among my children, you are by far the brightest. You could read even when others were still struggling with words." I agree. So many people have over the years been commenting on my intelligence that I find myself numb already. "You could be on your way to university by now," she continued, not sensing the sudden anger that was flaring up in me. "You could be a high-flyer." Right. "I don't want to be a high-flyer," I tried to keep my voice calm, in spite of the heat that was racing through my veins. "All I care about are my music and languages and philosophies. I don't want money, I don't want material wealth only to come home to an empty house." There was silence as she tried to understand why I was so passionate about these subjects hardly anyone cares about anymore. Then she struck me with a really low blow. I won't elaborate, but it stung. Of course, then I had to explain all over again that if I had really wanted to go to university, then I would have gone along that path. She offered to send me off to some distant land to study medicine. I tried not to laugh, but it came out anyway. A harsh sound, I'm sure. I'm not interested in medicine, as I told her. She looked lost. Then the polarity of the world appeared to change. I told her my hopes, my dreams. My aims of mastering the English language, languages in general, and how I wanted to teach others to appreciate what I love so much. THere is an art to languages, one not everyone can master. The same with music and writing. Philosophy is so broad, it has such a universal appeal. It is only recently when I have opened my writings to the people I trust that the idea of me teaching philosophy was broached. I don't know. The world is vast, our lives long, hopefully. Why do we all have to rush to secure our places in life? Why can't we slow the pace down, stop and smell the roses? I wondered if I could write. I was offered a job authoring children's books, but I declined. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so quick to say no. The offer still haunts me. It could have been my big break, but at that time I was suffering from serious writer's block and a severe confidence deficiency. *sigh* I don't know if the offer has been rescinded, but if it has, I have many other books to write. Oh, J. When we meet, do not look too badly upon me, for I have walked the path too many avoid. I fear my eventual destination will be financial and mortal ruin. On a sidenote, I am surprised my mum did not mention the gay angle. It has been a point of contention between my parents and me for so long. Could it be they have finally accepted that I cannot be changed?
I only want the best.