Beautiful Life

There's been a lot on my mind this morning. That's saying a lot considering I got out of bed at 1pm with Chibi batting at my hand. First of all, it's an amazingly gorgeous day outside, I refuse to be sad! Ok, not too sad. I have the habit of stress I think that's hard to shake. We have friends coming over, and the long awaited Scottish Baps and Bannana Scones are going to be made. Why grieve for what I can't change?

Did you realise that parents can kill their children? I hope I'm stronger than that, but it's been a close thing in the past. Not with guns, or knives, or poisens; but with words, and coldness, and lack of concern. Yesterday I heard the saddest story.


The Lady

Several years ago there was a beautiful and creative woman who had amazing talent and a glowing soul. But her father was unhappy with her and wanted her to marry before he died. You see, he had never accepted the fact that she was homosexual and continued to pressure her even into her early forties. Seeing her father was getting old, the glowing soul gave into his request out of love for him and married a man of his picking, hoping to win her father's respect and approval. She left her lover of years, her friends, her heart.

Even though the couple were finacially solvent and lived in a vertible mansion, her soul became dark. Friends saw this and tried to save her. You see, money and the 'correct' spouse had become a cage, a prison too what had been a free and happy spirit. The days counted down, each darker than the one before.

The day came of her freeing. She left a note. And took a shot of vodka or twelve. Reached for the pills, and the skies opened up.

I don't know what happened to her father or her spouse. Nor do I care. Her lover of years set herself free as well in the same manner not to long after. I got this story from one of her closest friends who saw what was coming, but couldn't save her or her lover.

You can't tell me these stories aren't real. They are. They happen all the time. Tragedies written by those that love. By parents who 'know best'.

I'm sorry for being so morose of late, but I have a similer situation at hand. No, I'm not going to go free. I'm free and happy enough in this time to stay. Why is it so hard to love your child when their views are different from yours? That begs the question, 'Why do people have kids?' Are we all just social experments for our parents to play with? Did my parents have me with the idea of creating a Christian army? Is that all they had planned for us? If so (and it really is looking like that might be it), how foolish.

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