Steps at a Time. I’m Just a Mosaic.

I stretched today. It felt good, to stretch for about an hour. Nothing too strenuous, just enough to give my muscles some breathing room and force.

I got three things lit in Maya (the 3D program I’m using). I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’m trying. I’m trying to understand. And slowly, so, so slowly I’m starting to understand bits and pieces. I’m proud of myself, for that fact. I’m trying…

Meanwhile, more family drama. Let it be known- my family does not get along, nor does it play well. My mother is the bane of the family, really for no reason.

She’s a beautiful woman. She’s an intelligent woman. She’s a sweet-natured, cheeky sense of humor kind of gal…and she can see through bullshit. So that’s probably why.

Plus her only child is also a rising promise, apparently (me). I’m a pretty face (apparently). I’m intelligent. I’m stubborn. I’m capable. I’m going to finish college, and strike out on my own in a beautiful mural of chaos that can only be how life should be lived.

I’m what one of my great aunt’s never had among her two sons. The other never had a successful marriage. And you know what? I can see why. She constantly jumped, wanting something better, rather than finding peace and beauty in what she already had.

So tonight it seems my great grandfather took a turn for the worse, healthwise. And honestly, I’m a mix of numb and absolute livid loathing.

We had every right to know first, before you fucking dared to post it in the “family group” on Facebook. And I called you on your bullshit. I have proof, I called you out. It was simple in wording, lacking all accusations I’ve been wanting to spit at you for six years.

I’m waiting, bitch, for you to make your move. I’ll show you my true colors. And you won’t come out on top.

Again and again, for years now, I’ve been reminded time and again why I don’t ever want to be anything like them. Not the grandma who wanted nothing to do with me, nor the side that bickers and points fingers and blame at all but their miserable selves.

And this I swear- to myself, the family I’ve found among my friends, and the man to enter my life:

I will never be them. I will give you all everything of me, as I’ve continued to do. And even if you break me, I won’t hold onto that spiraling discontent and hate.

I will break, and re-piece myself back together. I’m but a mosaic of experiences, color, and scars.

Day by day. I continue to grow into the stains of a portrait I’m still making.

I’m a mosaic. Love me as that, and you become my world.

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