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The Life and Times

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Growing up, I was close to my mother than my father. When said father is a researcher in a field highly sought after, making time to see your family is difficult. As far as I can remember he wasn’t there constantly in my childhood. He worked for a private company in Parum. So getting time off to see Mom and I at our home in G-Colony was rare. It started off with physical visits on the holidays and birthdays. But it quickly turned into phone calls, then nothing at all.

The loneliness and disappointment I had in him soon turned to anger.

I grew to despise him. I grew to hate the field he worked in. Mom saw that I stopped anticipating his visits, probably sooner than she expected. Her goal had always been to have me think differently. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t home with us. ‘I’d understand when I get older.’

She hoped that with an outlet for my frustrations, I would change my mind. All this was why I started to play the piano. I don’t know if it was my actually channeling those emotions or my sheer determination to be good at something was my driving force but I picked up playing quickly. It became something I could use to escape from my peers. Being a Human with blue hair on top of my lack of social skills thanks to Dad was the subject of being teased a lot. I could have said something to Mom, but I didn’t want to worry her. Being young didn’t stop me from noticing how hard it was for Mom to keep our family together. I didn’t want to make her even more upset with my issues on top of it. A part of me blamed Dad for all of this. If he was here I would be more well rounded. He should be the one responsible for what he’s done.

Thinking on it now, that was a stupid way of thinking. Issues with Dad aside, I should have stood up for myself.

I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Said teasing combined with my social skills and the time spent on my piano hobby didn’t leave me a lot of time to be around others my age.

The friends I did manage to have, I learned so much from then.

Kiri and I met during the middle of our time in junior high. She wasn’t popular. Being around me tends to bring down that popularity. But she had the kind of personality that brought people together. I was a work in progress, but her natural charisma helped me to at least know how to be around others. At the very least a lot of our schoolmates had a more positive view of me. I even think she started to help me think positive about my own self.

By having me grow my hair.

“Your facial expressions seem softer with long hair.” she reasoned.

I was surprised at her answer. Did I really have such a harsh expression? I only kept my hair short out of habit that bullies tend to yank on my hair to see if it was naturally blue.

When you have some Newman genes in you, it can happen.

Anyway, I kept her suggestion in mind. I only a young teen at the time so I didn’t take it fully to heart what she was saying then. Mom was ecstatic when she learned I made a friend. She was perceptive than my younger self first thought. But I shouldn’t be surprised, she is a mom. When I older, she told me that she had a small feeling that I was dealing with things.

But she was never worried.

“I had faith that you would find your own answers. Even if you don’t want to hear this, you have your father’s determination.”