So they know...and a social ritual I always avoided.
Saturday, 06/19/04 - 10:40 pm.

- Me: aaawww, look at all those Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures!!! I never had one of those...
- Brother: Yeah, you always knew better than that.

That sounds insignificant, but it meant a lot to me. It was heartwarming (even though I DO want TMNT action figures...the old ones, the ones of Raphael astronaut, Werewolf Leonardo and such...because I'm such a loser)

I spent the whole morning, besides studying, thinking "I must tell my parents about Joseph TODAY...it's today, or else they'll discoved by their own means, and that wouldn't be cool". I think something inside of me knew it was going to be today. And strangely enough, I wasn't scared.

So...it was lunchtime. It was my parents and me (the only ones who live in this house now) at the table. I felt there was an awkward silence, very tense. But I looked at my parents. Oh, they just didn't know what was coming. I thought of postponing it, because my dad looked sad, melancholy and upset over the food. But a voice in my head said: "fuck it...he's always like that". And he is (sometimes it breaks my heart, he's a sad old man most of times...but sometimes I go in my head, "dad, knock it off, consider this meal FOOD, for once!")

So I opened my mouth: I said I had a boyfriend and that I was telling them because I had nothing to hide. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to say. It took me the entire meal (I did it when I saw my dad finishing his drink) to dare to say it. And when I did, my dad looked up to me, and he gave me a look I wasn't expecting...he smiled...but it was a sad smile, a smile that mixed a sense of defeat and pride. Like that, so sudden?, he asked me. By "sudden" he meant the way I told him. There was no other way, was there? (what, did he wanted me to mail him a card warning him I had news?). And he didn't say anything else. My mom did most the talking...that it was natural and something along those lines.

From the university?. "Yes". From your class?. "He will be next year. He was studying law, but just because his dad wanted him to. Now he's working to pay for his studies, and he'll start psychology next year". And that was it. My dad left the table, as he always does. My mom asked me his name, and she chuckled when I told her Joseph's name...I mean, "Joseph" and his last name...because Joseph is my dad's first-first name (he's got three names, and removed this one) and Joseph's last name is my dad's second last name.

I left the table, too, and I heard my dad in front of the TV: be careful. I said yes. I didn't tell them Joseph takes care of me like nobody else does, and that when I have to meet up with my dad at a coffeehouse a block away from the campus at night, he stays that late at the university, just to walk me there. I will, eventually.

Ok. So that's it. They know. Nothing big happened and I'm very relieved. In words of Bill Watterson, you die a thousand deaths before you even get in trouble. But I had to, I had to, in words of Joseph, "expect the unexpected". Well, he'd also told me "be afraid during the battle, but not before it", and I did the opposite. But it's over now. And I'm glad.

Now back to the usual life. Although it is odd to be walking about knowing my parents know. I'm scared at any second my dad will tell me sit down and will start lecturing me. I'm afraid of all the things they could be thinking about. But once again, Joseph says: "one must never suppose anything".

Speaking of Joseph, he'd told me the whole week to turn on to channel 12 at 10 am today. I did it, and Dawson's Creek was on...I though "what the fuck?", but then I remembered...in one of our first conversations (we'd just met) I mentioned something about Dawson's Creek, that I liked it, although I never followed the whole plot; I just liked it, I kind of related to it, because my friends at school (and sometimes myself) seemed to lead an emotional, complicated life like the one depicted in the show. I remember he laughed at that, he didn't believe I'd watch something like that. That was such a detail from him.

Change of topic. My cousin turned 15 this week, and she invited me to a little celebration. That's a ritual in this country, a girl celebrates her 15th birthday with a mass, and a huge-ass celebration that usually leaves the family in a big debt for years. Its magnitude it's like a wedding, except it's one girl dressed in pink walking down the aisle. Did I have one of those when I turned 15? Absolutely no. I asked for a computer with internet access instead of a party. My dad was very proud of me.

There was a little problem, though, and that's that some of my dad's family members cannot see each other. They've had fights, ugly fights, with insults and all. My aunts became fanatics, to the point of breaking up their marriages, and everything got uglier when one of them died (in september 2001, a few days ago after I'd started this diary). My dad has been hurt because of the family's attitudes.. I blame those rows on most of my dad's sadness and melancholy these past years. They've pushed him aside, along with a brother. He's hurt, and sometimes I'm scared he'll just break down. His family (cousins and siblings) is simply broken.

Anyway...I went to mass. I thought the whole thing was ridiculous, but that cousin, Rachel, and her two brothers, are my favorite relatives. We've grown up together. I had to be there. After mass there was a small meal, and my dad dropped me off there, always leaving me in the driveway, because he obviously didn't want to see or be seen by his siblings.

I had fun there, I'd thought I wouldn't. My dad told me to be careful with my aunts, with whatever they told me. They were nice to me, but they didn't care a lot for me, anyway. I sat with two of my cousins, and with two cute nieces I didn't know I had (my cousins' children). There are a lot of cousins. It's a big, fat, broken family (ok, my dad's generation...my generation is trying to stick together through the rows of the grown-ups).

One thing that sort of bothered me was all those pre-teen girls, Rachel's friends. Ok, they weren't pre-teens exactly, they were 14, 15. But they acted like pre-teens, and I remembered why I always avoided attending 15th birthday parties. I hated dancing to that awful music, I hated going to the ladies restroom in herds. They were much more dressed up than I was, although they had MUCH less fabric on their bodies than I did. Watching all those 10-15 furious little asses shake on the dance floor amused me, as well as saddened me. Now I know why I never did fit in at school...and I'm glad I never did. I couldn't help staring at them, thinking those girls were quite hot and yet pathetic (but they seemed nice, too).

I felt so sad for my dad when he picked me up. What did you talk about with them (my aunts and uncle)?. "Not much...they asked me how we were doing". Did they ask you about me?. "...No". I regretted being so honest, I think I heard his heart shatter in a thousand pieces.

Well, I have to go read to my nephew, so I'll wrap it up here. I could talk about the memories I got from watching Dawson's Creek today, but I'll just say I'm very relieved about telling my parents, and much more relieved that they took it calmly (no questions were asked...not the ones I feared). Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to do that, it was a nice push. I love Joseph, and I can't wait to tell him my parents already know. He'll freak out. He's good at it.

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