December

In that little corner of the round table, I saw how I didn't fit in with everyone. I had nothing to say to them, and they had nothing they wanted to know about me. I nonchalantly ate my meal, poured my own juice, and kept quiet to myself as they chitter-chattered amongst each other about topics I had no interest in. But obligated to react, I'd occasionally throw a smile or an  "oh".They, my supposed, brothers and sisters were just strangers to me. Well, not complete strangers, but people that have to say they love each other. Surely, I did not hate these brothers and sisters, but I was the granny smith of the fuji sack, the banana hanging in a peach tree. And for five years, I stuck with these people, because of love. I loved these brothers and sisters although I have little to say to them. I loved watching them, entertaining them, and showing them how God has changed me. But there have been many moments that lead me back to that day, when I hated the family, moments that lead my back to that day when I had no respect for any of those fuji apples, moments that lead me back to that day when I wanted to stay in my bunk bed until the bus came to pick us up.

It makes me laugh in disgust, the things they talked about and the pride they took in having those conversations. "AA, you know has been with BB" "Of course I know, I also know about AA and CC and with FF" "But I heard LL was with HH" "No, no no, that would never happen" So the entire table sat there, excited about the gossip and use of code names so other tables and I would not understand.  And I realized how little I knew about these people, how I never expected these brothers and sisters to have incest-ful feelings towards each other. 'Wow, these people, they're really stupid.', I thought. And I suddenly realized that I should care, I should be curious about my siblings. And so I concluded with, 'I don't belong here, what the hell am I doing here?'