Home, sweet home.

I cherish an incredible self-disgust, self-loathing and self-hate for..oh guess who? Myself!

I'm the most jealous bitch you will ever meet and there is hardly anything I can do against it. Let's give an example, shall we? Okay. Prepare. The example I am going to give you guys is a very recent situation. Too recent maybe. I'm still crying (don't you think it is amazing how I victimize myself here by saying that I'm crying, by the way? I think it takes quite some talent).

I did something terrible.

Ever since she existed, I have felt jealous about my sister. I've tried to keep it 'in', but there have been several occasions in which I couldn't help myself and everything came out, as lava comes out of a volcano.

For example: my sister is sporty. She has been playing tennis for a couple of years now and she's incredibly good (especially if you see her playing next to me or something, which you won't. Not in a hundred years). By now, she needs a cupboard to put all her trophies in and everywhere in the house, there are tennis balls, rackets, tennis shoes, tennis skirts, tennis tops, tennis bags and deodorant to be found. She even has a 'Certificate of Recognition', signed by the head of Physical Education in our School, because of an 'Outstanding Performance in the Basketball Module' and as if that weren't enough... She has little reminders of her visit to Florida in her room (where I sleep as well, at the moment, because our Portuguese grandparents are here for 4 entire months and they sleep in my room). Florida was 'the best time of [her] life' and she 'would do anything to go back. RIGHT NOW.' I was so happy for her that she went to Florida summer camp, because what she did there, wasn't just sunbathing and sipping from Cookies&Cream smoothies, but also playing ...well how'd you guess? Tennis. She had the time of her life and I'm very happy for her. But yes, I've never had that. She has always been 'the quiet, sporty one'. I have always been 'the loud, girly one'. Do you see how painful this is? All people have ever seen, was the fact that I like pretty clothes and that I spend time on the way I look. People used to hate me, because they thought I was crying for attention when I had anorexia, that is how much time I spent on my appearance. People only see the superficial me and you know what? That is the only me I want them to see by now. I never expect people to see the 'real' me anymore. And that's fine. I just don't let my hopes live up. Oh, by the way: did I mention that my sister is the 18th in Hong Kong rankings, all ages, with tennis? Well, now you know. Too bad there are no famous rankings with dancing, because the fact that I was pretty damn good at dancing... Everybody seems to forget about that. (Believe it or not, but I am a good dancer.)

Furthermore, my sister is gorgeous. She has a nice clothing style, pretty hair, a beautiful smile and gorgeous eyes. She is funny and radiates happiness. She has an attitude and stands up for herself, something I can only dream of. Sometimes I wonder if we're even sisters.

And to end (and bring this to where the story really is going): my sister gets all the friends. If you ask: "Who is the people-person: Melissa or Camilla?", 9 out of 10 will name me. Why? Because I talk to everybody I know. And to people I don't know. I have no problem socializing,- I like everybody when I meet them and I want everybody to like me (yes, pathetic. Leave it alone.), so I'm genuine to every person I meet. Some people get confused by that, apparently, because they don't get how someone can be nice to people from different social groups. They always pull over to one group or another in the end and they have never seen me do that. Well, let's put something straight: they never will. That is not who I am and that is not what I do.

But what do I do then? The answer is pretty simple.

I make people miserable.

I pretend to always help people, but that is not true. I may help them, directly, but indirectly, I always seem to hurt people. Even when I don't mean to (and if I may say so: I never ever ever EVER mean to, not even if I don't like the person that gets hurt. And this I swear). A couple of weeks ago, I made this awesome friend: Tiffany (she's the one in the pictures with me in Tanzania). She is one of the most awesome people I have ever met in my life and I really really appreciate everything she says. After Tanzania we became closer and closer and I can say without lying that she is the best female friend I have at the moment. But this is where the jealousy sets in.

Tiffany is the first person in a very very long time that sees me for me. She doesn't see 'the loud, girly girl', but she sees me. She sees the good things, the bad things, the normal things and the abnormal things and the weird things is... She seems to understand some of the things naturally. At first I got scared of that, because I knew that I was going to let her in. I knew I was going to let my hopes live up again and that can only mean one thing in my case: I get hurt. But ok, so Tiffany sees me for me. 'What's so special about that?', you may think. It's special, because she's good with my sister as well. Too good, when it comes to me. They are on iChat with each other continuously and whenever they are together in school they have inside jokes (the one begins to smile and the other joins in. The rest doesn't have a clue about what's going on). It literally makes me feel noxious when I see them together or even when I think of them together. It's ridiculous, I know, but I can't help it.

I don't know what to do with it... The reason I'm so possessive over Tiffany, is because she's such a high estimated friend of mine and I don't want to loose her. But a fact is that whenever people get to know us, they prefer me over my sister. But when they get to know us better, they get to know her 'real' self and of me there will be nothing new to find out.. I'll always be the same to them, unless I have a reason to treat them otherwise. People always end up liking my sister better than me and I-can't-stand-it. She deserves it, but whenever it comes to my friends, I freak out.

And that is exactly what I did. I freaked out.

I posted some terrible things about my sister on Facebook and I don't get why. I honestly don't know why I did it. I hate myself for doing it and I immediately deleted it, but that doesn't justify that I did it in the first place. I wrote: "Remember in all times:: My sister is a kankerhoer." Yes, those were the literal words. If you don't speak dutch: 'kankerhoer' is a very offensive word in the dutch language and I never use it. I hate it whenever people say it, but it was fresh in my mind, because my English friend Lewis was saying it the whole time when we were walking through Mongkok last Saturday, so I put it in the note. I felt terrible about it and I deleted it almost immediately after posting it, but not before my sister read it. Of course she told my parents about it and they gave me a rant of God knows how long. My mother was screaming at me and even though I wanted to tell her that I could hear perfectly fine, I didn't, because I knew that I didn't deserve anything. I don't. My father only said one thing: "If you do this one more time, you will not sit on the same table as I do anymore. I do not know you anymore." My mother ranted on through whatever my father was saying: "How could you! And your sister! What has she ever done to deserve this behaviour from you! She, the person who always had your back on everything, how can she ever look at you the same way! You, of all people, YOU! You should know what it is like...." blahblah. It went on like this of a while.

But at least I feel terrible about it.

So if the hate, radiating from my sister towards me, isn't enough to punish me for this all,- for the jealousy I cherish inside me, as a burning flame that gets bigger and bigger as I try to suppress it, and what I do with that jealousy,- then the bricks in my stomach are. The tremors of my hands are. The burning hot tears, streaming down my cheeks, are.

I'm so sorry.

Everything is such a mess at the moment. I'm so incredibly busy with stuff for school and with figuring out how everything with 'le boyfriend' is going to be going and it's just... AKNOIWHLIOWFEHOLIDANGGOBINGIWF to have to come to the conclusion that everything I used to be good at, has disappeared. 

^I can't write anymore; my words don't make sense anymore

^I can't dance anymore; I do latin dance and it just doesn't work without a partner

^I can't concentrate anymore; I keep losing focus at moments where I absolutely must focus

^I can't help my friends anymore; it's either that or nobody listens to me in the first place

^I can't do without my best friend Roel anymore; I miss him so incredibly much, it's indescribable

The only moments I can think of what is going on inside my head,- the only moments I can actually 'give it a moment', are the moments I'm on blogspot, telling you guys about my interesting life. And the frustrating, yet comforting, thought, is that nobody is actually reading it.

Dear Santa,

I wish I knew how to make friends.

And how to keep them.

Thank you,

Camilla.