no, no, no

What's thrown at me, I can't do anything about. I might as well suck it up and forge through it, smile and bear it. That's the only way to live life, isn't it? It has to be bittersweet, or it's not life at all.

As I sit here, listening to the Beach Boys perpetually spin around on the record player, a bout of melancholy consumes me. I've grown up watching my mother sacrifice for my sister, for my brother, for me. I see it as something she's happy to do and wouldn't do anything else, but it's tinged with a sort of sadness I never quite understood.

I understand now. I've grown up to be someone like my mother, always sacrificing. Except now, I'm sacrificing for my mother. I'm happy to do it for her, really, I am happy. But that melancholy feeling...

I've grown myself up too fast, I think. Too fast.