Farce

"I love you"

Trigger Warning: Child abuse/suicidal ideation/implied ableism or internalized ableism/passive suicidality/bad self esteem/emotional repression

What is the meaning of such a brief sentence hovering over your lips? Why do I feel my stomach churn when I see affection others display outside of this all too familiar prison called "home?"

What is love? I can't quite grasp the concept.. let alone how others can properly communicate such vulnerabilities. Often times, I put up a farce in front of others. I do it so it won't hurt. I force into place this wall that I vow won't crumble but even so,  it still does.  Why does it still hurt when I expect it? When I should be "ready?" (No one can be prepared for abuse- no matter how much it repeats. It always scars. ) Why does what I've always wished for never seem to measure up to what it I wanted? I thought this was freedom- finally getting to be separate of that prison I call "home." How is it I still feel alone? Why am I so different?  

Sometimes, I hate myself for it. I resent how if I let my walls crumble, people take the bricks and toss them right back at me. They love to crush any hope I have of ever really  being me. Why do they only like the image I've been forced to into? The one who isn't truly me? 

For the first time in my life, I finally have been allowed into a space outside of my father's grasp. People who don't know him even if they know of him. Teenagers! Ones with lives completely different than mine, people not directly connected to my father or how the media portrays me.  

I was so incredibly excited that first day. Finally, freedom. But of course, when I actually took my first step away from that car, fear became my noose. Natalie sent my father's voice over the phone as a "congratulations." A reminder of "trust".. a promised threat to make sure not to disappoint. Or else.

I've never been in a situation like this- entrusted to be on my own. I know (have had it beat into me) that I cannot afford to be hasty. I cannot shame the Agreste name. Must stay with those only my father deems acceptable. The only reason I'm even here is probably due to how the public percieves my father- expects him to allow me to enter high school. Who knows what else. It's no sudden kindness. I gave up on that from my father long ago. 'But, what if?' A part of me still longs..  I can't think like that. I'd be an idiot if I were to let myself get hurt by him the same way again. If I don't expect better then there's no disappointment, right? Yet my heart still hopes whilst my mind speaks against it. 

I am awestruck at the interactions of "normal" teenagers. What is this language they speak? And no, I don't mean French, even if I suddenly forget how to speak my first language the moment I step foot in that institution.

I am amazed by how easy the students make it seem. How they excitedly bounce around each other and weave sentences and context clues that are by lines I've never known. They quote pop culture and whatever else a normal teenager would, had they grown up unlike me. I am lost within a sea of strangers and all I know is this will be the closest I'll ever get to someone who understands what it's like to be me.

When I saw Chloe in that class I felt disappointment. I mean, I knew she'd be there as she had so very enthusiastically made sure to point out to me time and time again. I hated how I felt comfort in a familiar presence when all it did was suffocate me in an already incredibly difficult situation. This was supposed to be somewhere I can be free, or at least freer than I ever have been. I know I'm still chained by my father's grip here, but it's a trial allowing me to entertain thoughts I can't help but bubble up. I shove them down my throat before my father can. He must never know what I think. I was taught the consequence of expressing myself to him far before I stepped foot into this school. I will not fail him (learn the consequences of being a disappointment again).

I can't help the pit of discomfort and anger that bubbles up in my stomach when I see Chloe acting out. She has no excuse for her behavior and although I can't risk telling her off how I'd like to, I know she only takes a "no" from me to reconsider. I don't get why I'm disappointed when even if I haven't seen her misdeeds directly they've been incredibly clear. Why'd I believe she'd change? Be better? She never has wanted to be.. Maybe it's just my wishful thinking and want of a real friend rather than connections. Or that I see myself and have the kind of willingness to change even when my situation doesn't allow it. 

I've always struggled when it comes to reading others. I don't have the same understanding everyone else seemingly does when other's interact with me. It's even more complicated when most are only there to go after someone I'm not- to serve their own greeds and wants related to my father and I. 

I wish I could throw all these feelings away. I wish I could "stomach" it and just suck it up, get on with the day. But, I'm just so tired. I'm so exhausted each and every day by being someone I'm not. I don't know what to do about it. There's nothing I can do. I'm stuck here and I don't think I'll ever get out. Three years of this school? No, even beyond this school I know I'll be in my father's grip. I can't leave his hold when he holds the power over every single aspect of my life. How can I leave when everyone knows my face? How can I ask for help when all will spit back at me that I'm just being an ungrateful, spoiled little rich brat? That someone as great as the Gabriel Agreste could never be so creative in cruelty? 

I resent him. I hate him. I hate my father for all he does to me. However, what I hate most is how I still look for him. I still seek his approval and his praise... his "love." Deep down, I know he doesn't know what love is. Maybe he once did, maybe he saw it in my mother.. or maybe he just wanted a predecessor he could control, but, he does not know the love of a parent. He does not know the love of a child. He does not know love. And I know all he has taught me is what love is not because I will never "love" someone the same he has to me.  

It takes too much energy to hold on to hatred. I still feel it, but, what can I do? Nothing is within my control. So why try? 

I take a step forward. And yet, even if it feels like a step off a cliff, I relish in the taste of it. I won't back down. I want to live. I want to feel alive. I want to be me. To finally know who me is. And my father? He'll never have a part of that.

Cat Noir? Being him? He means taking that risk- jumping and knowing that even if it is gravity that catches my fall, cats have far more than one life. That, even when if I have no life at all, Plagg will lend one to me. He breathes it into me. Has given me this opportunity to be reborn as who I choose to be.. and I think for the first time.. I'm starting to actually like me.