I am sick today. Actually, I started getting sick yesterday, but tried to deny it. Waking up with chills, coughing, and a sore throat at 2:30am kept me from denying it any longer, however. So, I have been catching up on Roswell. Many of you won't remember this show, but for those who do (or hell, even if you don't, Netflix has them to watch online), take a look at the very first episode and then compare to Twilight. Hell, take a look at all 3 seasons. Say what you will Twihards, I am one myself, but there's a pattern here... It would totally explain my hardcore Twilight love. I also realize that Brendan Fehr sported the "Edward Cullen" haircut YEARS before Edward came along. ;)
Just sayin'
I remember when the show first came out. I was 17, living on Easy St. with yet another set of foster parents. I was dating my high school love, and all was right in my world. Except for the fact I was a foster child however. It was like it's own little scarlet letter on my chest. Two neighbors loved me, I even worked for one. Her son was autistic, and I was one of his tutors. It was awesome to learn about autism through working with Logan. I babysat for him and his brother all the time. There was another family however who didn't like me so much. Their 13yr old son and their 20yr old son both developed crushes on me. I actually went on a few dates with Brian, the 20yr old later on, after Jason and I split. He was a sweet guy. His mom however thought I was evil, someone foster brat who didn't belong in her neighborhood. I always wanted to scream that having a vinyl siding house on a .5 acre lot does not make you high society. Her sons were sweet however. The 13yr old grew out of his crush, but started to consider me his big sister after a while. Imagine having a 13yr old asking you how to ask a 12yr old to the big middle school dance. :p
My life has never been normal. I didn't have a mom who worried about me, even after I ran away, back to her, only a few short months after Roswell came out. She never cared. I was a prize to be won, and coming back to her was victory. I think it was at that point, I started to realize that my life was never going to be normal. That I would never feel normal. Yet I want it so bad. I vow that my daughters will know normal. Or as normal as I can give them. I love seeing them smile when I hug them, on the rare moments that Alice allows that these days. Thumbelina doesn't know how to stop smiling (Unless you tell her no. That'll make it disappear for about 2-5 minutes)
I strive hard for the dream. The fantasy life I wanted for myself. I fall flat most days. I should wear a helmet and knee pads for how hard I fall trying. If this were literal instead of purely figurative, I would have one massive concussion! I don't think the damages of my life will ever be gone. I don't think I'll ever feel whole. But I want to.
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