53 - Please, I'm scared.

Just for those of you who are unfamiliar, here's a little summary of my current situation: my parents are divorced and I live with just my maternal grandparents. My father was 'being difficult' last summer in a number of ways, and since July, I haven't seen or spoken to him. He was self-centered, and always moaned about his ex-wives and his boss. Consequently, he was insensitive to my problems. I got sick of him, and that side of my family. He was a waste of my time.

Tonight, on this homework-crammed night, I received a text message from my father that said: "I wanna see you this thursday".

I will see him on Thursday. And I am scared.

In the past year or so, I have gradually become more and more scared of depending on the people who are close to me. This is because, in the past year, I have been greatly disappointed by three people who are very special to me.

One was my best friend. One was a girl. And one was my father.

I think I am partially culpable for my own downfall, but I do hold expectations for certain people because I think giving, sharing and tolerating is what friends and family do for each other. I always take a leap of faith with people because I believe good hearts lie within each of us. Since last year, I've really learned the hard lesson: people aren't always reliable.

But I'm going to see my father with a open heart because I think it is the mature thing to do. I'm going because we are connected by blood. (I am always amazed by how well he and my mother know me so well without the formalities of actually learning about each other that exist with friends.) I'm going because I believe I got angry over something silly, because I reckon I lost my respect for him too quickly in a rush of emotion. And I'm going because shooting some snooker and downing shots of Jack Daniel's has always been fun. With him.

On the other hand, I am scared that he will still be irresponsible, and irrational, self-involved and arrogant. I am scared that by having him in my presence, the negative traits which he has passed on to me by blood will emanate out of me despite my constant internal repression. I am scared that I will have to go through losing him all over again if I get impatient with his cocky personality one night after a taxing day at school. And I am scared that he will distract me, have an impact on my grades, and affect my future.

My fellow bloggers, tell me the sun will shine, please.

Please tell me I don't have to be scared.

Please tell me I'll be fine.

49 - You people are scaring me.

It's the weekend again, which means I can return to blogging with all the rest of you. I'm sure it's been a long week for all of you, but I hope you all have something to make you feel better this weekend, and something to look forward to this month.

How have I been doing? Well, I have a little something to share. It gets me a bit emotional, but in a good way, so here we go:

This blogging thing that I started three or four months ago has escalated to a point where the people in my real life are telling me I should publish books. They tell me they admire what I've done, that my writing is definitely very commercial and relevant.

I, with complete honesty, do not want to think about it. I think my skills are above average, but that is as far as I am willing to be proud of. It is not my humbleness that makes me think I'm not good enough, it is my practicality and my honesty that makes me doubt I am writer material. I am only seventeen. I am a student that achieves reasonably well in English class. But the reason people under twenty generally do not start publishing at that age is because you need many years of practice and experience in order to be great, to be truly fabulous, extraordinary and unique.

It's scary to have my mother dreaming of me succeeding as an author. Of course, an autobiography, novels and perhaps a 'Do You Hate It Too?' book have crossed my mind, but I am in disbelief. I understand that people in their youth can publish books. I get that I can do it if I worked at it.

But my heart isn't there right now. I want to publish books some day, but within the next three years seems a little soon and it scares me so much, I think I might pee a little. I'm damn frightened of that sort of fame.

Nonetheless, I still love the praise. In the blogging world, people care about me, and have found my writing and my life to be 'honest', 'beautiful', 'charming', 'humorous', 'mature beyond [my] years', 'excellent', 'interesting', 'thoughtful', 'thought-provoking' and 'emotional'. Someone two months ago said they respected me for being so honest, despite the fact that I don't believe I'm very respectable. I uncomfortably carry a high reputation on Blogger, when I don't reckon I am reputable.

This particular blog of mine urges me to be honest, and honestly, frankly, really, I believe I'm just a kid with familial, scholastic, romantic, and friend-related problems, with funny stories, with emotions, with a life like everybody else. I have always told people this piece of advice: you make your own life interesting. And that is what I've done, and what I hopefully will continue to do. I think anyone can do this and could write as well as I do.

Now, I actually get fanmail. Bloggers add me on Facebook. I actually have a social life that reaches further than it ever has before. People know my name, and think of my words and ideas while at work and school. People know me, and think I'm friggin' hilarious and wonderful. For most of the time, I don't believe I walk on the streets everyday, with people all over the world that expect me to write when I get home. I don't believe I've learned so much about so many mind-boggling things from being amongst such a talented, thoughtful cyberclique. I find it hard to believe in things that are this good.

And the rate at which all of this is growing is exponential.

Lately, I have frequently been stopping in the middle of my work to daydream.

And I find myself thinking, shit, what the Hell have I done to my life?

Is this really happening to me?