Chapter 25 Jin’s Essay

It’s war.

It is a war.  It’s been a war.  It will always be a war until something changes or the light of my life finally goes out.  But until then, I feel it raging deep within me shattering my life in different directions and pulling at my sanity, which refuses to give in to the power and destruction of the war.

I could not adequately and completely tell this story without sending myself back to the beginning; the place where it all began.  Most would say that it was all an active imagination spurred on by my frustrations.  That memory can not be retained before the age of childhood, but as I said before on the day of my childhood transition, I remember.  I remember it all clearly and without doubt, the memories that I carry with me and shape who I have become today.  It’s not a debate, there is no need to discuss the nature vs nurture challenge.  I am who I am because of who my parents are, both genetically and the experiences I have endured because of them and beside them.

So here I will state the facts plainly, without complaint and without aggravated moaning of how unpleasant my early childhood has been. I will provide a picture for you to form in your own mind and understand where I find myself today.  In my own personal war.

I want to say first off that I love my dad, so no matter what else I say always come back to that in your mind, and remember.  For Ian Bell is and always has been a good father, even if I can’t always agree with his methods or understand his motives.  We butt heads like two rams who vie for the place of right and leadership.  It took a great deal for me to admit that to you, all the while leaving a very sour taste in my mouth.  For even though deep down I understand this, I’m still incredibly angry, for so many things.

So as I said, we need to start at the beginning, which I believe to be virtually obvious, considering.  Those memories I am not supposed to remember? Here is where they start; that moment my mother placed me in my crib and said goodbye.  I will always remember that most; the look on her face as she said goodbye to me. I was too young at the time to understand but that look stayed with me, as the most odd memories do that can never be explained until one becomes old enough to comprehend.  All I really did understand the next morning, was my mother was gone,  and in essence that moment I learned my first true lesson of life.

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Save and pause.

I needed a break from soul searching.  Two weeks had passed since that phone call from my father telling me my mother had died after giving birth.  I spent that time at the lake, skipping school, fishing and in general thinking about my life. I quit both soccer teams and refused to see any of my friends unable to cope with the looks of pity and sadness on their faces.  I didn’t want to feel better.  I wanted to remember and cultivate this anger.  Anger was better than sorrow for it helped me to remember and I thought, gave me clarity.

I had put off this essay for Ms. Meirs simply because I was too angry to even begin to get anything down on paper.  Angry with my father, but angry with myself as well.  I am still angry, but at least now I can get my thoughts down in orderly fashion to complete the assignment and finish with top marks.

I began to write again:

So Ms. Meirs, you want to understand? Then I shall tell you in the most basic of thoughts. Mr. Cobb was right when he said that losing a parent was like no other loss.  With the death of a parent, along goes with it your sense of security a parent gives you.  That knowledge that your safety net is no longer there and you are all on your own with no one to catch you if you fall.  It’s like she took a part of me with her when she died.

I feel like the rug has literally been yanked out from underneath me, and I’ve lost my secure footing in the world.  Yet as bad as that is, I also understand I have been feeling the pull of that rug long before my mother actually died.  Did I ever grow up with as secure a footing as any other child would?  I didn’t think so.  I know my mother tried to make up for abandoning me as a toddler.  I truly believe that once she returned, she was there because she wanted to be with me, but that didn’t completely erase those feelings of abandonment that stayed with me every day of my life.  Why wasn’t I good enough for her to want to stay in the first place?

To make matters even worse, I’m angry at a child I have never even met, nor may ever have a chance to meet.  From the moment my mother found out she was pregnant, you could see the change in her eyes.  She wanted that child so badly and I couldn’t help but think ‘Why that child, but not me!’ No need to chastise me for such a childish thought, for I have done enough of that to myself.  I know being jealous of a little baby is pathetic, especially since I didn’t know if that baby had even survived.  However that knowledge only heightened my feelings of resentment, for it was that baby that had also taken my mother from me.  Needless to say, this demonstrates how much of a mess I have been inside.  If only this was all there was to say.

I surmise this is where I should tell you something of a more positive light and so I will share that my parents taught me what real love was.  I grew up knowing love and seeing love as my parents were great role models in this regard.  I had a clear idea of the life I wanted to share with a wife of my own.  Did my feelings of abandonment inferfere with that?  Perhaps.  Did I jump into my relationship with Sun too quickly?  Could be, but I have no doubt in my head or my heart about how I truly feel about her.  Can you then understand how I feel and the torment I am feeling over this whole situation?

My father told me to go out into the world to find myself and try to make a life.  Did he do that because he was sure we would discover Sun was his daughter?  Was I to find out that the higher powers that be could really be that cruel and keep us apart?  I spent ever day desperately holding on to the hope everything would turn out in my favour and use it as my beacon of sanity.  Everything I want is back on that island so how was I to go out and “find myself?”  How can I lead two lives?  Half of me yearning for what I can’t have and the other half telling me to  protect my heart by moving on to something new.

How do I justify this love for Sun?  Do I love her like a man loves a woman or am I somehow to forget those feelings and learn to love her only as a sister?  How can love be right and wrong all at the same time?  Can you see how maddening that is?  I feel like I have literally been split in half. I’m juggling all these balls in the air, hoping none of them fall and all the while praying for that phone call to save me and allow me to come home.

My father said go find out who you really are.  Caeruleus said, it’s your time.  My father said go experience life.  I remember how I felt proposing to Sun.  Caeruleus said she will never know.  I feel guilty for wanting to spend time with Katie while maintaining distance from her at the same time.  My father said, go and learn all you can.  Caeruleus said do you want to be the inexperienced one in this relationship?  I remember Sun telling me she loves me.  I think about my love for Sun and feel slightly dirty for feeling the way I do about someone who may be my sister.   I’m angry at my father for not keeping it in his pants so long ago and causing all this in the first place.

My mother says ….nothing at all and never will again.  I was not there to say goodbye, because HE sent me away and what were his true motives in that regard?  Was it just to protect Sun?  Did he want her to himself without me getting in the way?  Deep down does he know, has he known all along he has a daughter?  And the most important question of all-why didn’t he send for me to come home as soon as my mother died? Was that in itself proof of all my suspicions.

I feel I am truly going mad.  Like someone is sitting on my chest and I can no longer breathe, while my heart is ripped apart in pieces a little bit at a time.

So in conclusion I choose not to feel better or cry for what is lost.  I hold my anger close to my heart which keeps me clear headed and drives my life.  If I start to cry, that thin line of sanity I have been walking will break and I don’t know who I will be after that.

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Proof read and SEND.  The end to my high school experience.  Time for a cold one.  Cheers!