Things that should stay, things that should go

Reorganizing my room on a Sunday. And honestly, I think there are some of my winter clothes I will not be keeping.

I did not bring many here. Left half of it at my father's, in one of those boxes that ended up stabbed. I don't even remember which and I don't care. But from the few I brought, I had a sort of uneasiness at especially a green modal-cotton shirt I would wear in winter, when the temperatures would get chillier yet I wouldn't want to layer too much. I just don't like the memory of this one, and it didn't hit me when I went to get it a couple weeks ago. Sometimes, I guess things don't really repulse you until you see them a second time, I guess.

Also, I'm not sure why, but some of those clothes smell a bit like feet. I don't know if it's because they would be left to dry in the box room (where the heat pump was) when it was not me doing the laundry (because when I did, I would ALWAYS put the clothes hanger in the living room, not in a tiny ass room without a window and with poor air circulation... and they never smelled any wrong)... but they might need a wash, or just, I don't know. I guess I don't like them as much anymore.

***

It's a shame though. I have a pair of brown flared corduroy pants and I don't know if I still want them around next year. It took me a year to find them. Usually when I look for something specific, give it a year before it comes into a fashion. That pattern has always been here in my life and I don't know why. But unless it becomes hard next year to find them... I might just give them away. Because they remind me of life, there.

I even remember when they arrived. There was a little hole around the belt holder thingies here. Something completely fixable and that the seller didn't show in pictures, but I mean, as long as it's something you can just sew back on, I don't find it to be a huge deal. Oh my God. Say this to my father. 

"You have to tell her to refund you!"

"But that's no big deal. You fix it with a bit of thread and a needle and it's all good."

"But that's dishonest. You pay with your money and she doesn't show it on the ad. That's a reason to ask for a refund."

"*sigh* fine..."

Money, again. There was only money on his mind. Always money. During the time he was with my mom, he was swearing off his entire upbringing which was characterized, among other things, by a lot of cheap mentality from my grandmother, getting the cheapest stuff possible, eating cheap food... now I get that she had to raise two boys alone, but that's still a disgusting mentality in my mind.

***

There's one memory that will always remain burned in my memory and, in hindsight, tells me everything I need to know about this man. In July of 2025, I had a driving lesson planned, but there was also a terrible heatwave going on and I was already not sleeping well. I told him I wasn't feeling it. He told me I should go anyway. I reluctantly accepted. Even the driving school wouldn't modify the planning: their argument was that "the planning was already set and there is AC in the cars". Alright. 

The same night, I slept only two hours because my room, unfortunately upstairs, was too hot to really dip into long stretches of deep sleep. I was not feeling well that day. I was a bit woozy, I was nauseous, I just... I ended up not going. The driving school called, I told them I was not in a state where I could drive. Then I called my father. I told him, I'm not going, I'm not feeling well. I'd rather not risk my health for a driving lesson.

Now see. I think any normal parent would've said "oh, Aka, take some rest, it's alright". 

My father said:

"Do you have an idea how much this represents?"

I keeled over. Instantly broke into tears.

"Are you saying my health is less important than your money?"

I knew my mom wouldn't have done such a thing. And she was just as astounded when I told her. Even if she didn't show much by text, to her this would've been abhorrent.

I screamed, I cried. He kept saying, calm down. Stop crying. Listen to me. I loudly would scream "NO". I told him, you don't care about me, you never cared about me in the first place, you don't give a shit about me, you don't give a shit about my health, it's all about money to you. His argument was that "he'd rather put this money into my car than give it to the driving school". And later on he brought up my mom again. Like he couldn't stop bringing her into every argument. 

And when I reminded him that back when I was 16 and visiting him and my former stepmother (the mother of my two sisters), I never felt at home, I barely even felt like a guest.

His argument? 

"It's not because you couldn't get up at 1pm that you weren't cared for"

Or however he put it. 

The meaning is the same: to him it was all because I was not allowed to get up at 1pm. 

All because, in other words, I was a spoiled brat.

Another domino fell down that day.

***

Another one about money that is relevant... was either the time he bought a gift for my sister's friend's birthday, or he did for one of my sisters, themselves. 

But for the birthday girl, he had budgeted something like 15 bucks maximum for it. He did not bring my sister with us, oddly enough: I was the one tagging along. His argument for never taking them grocery shopping is that "it takes so long, it's endless, I don't have time for that". 

So basically, his own children exploring and being children is a bother to his little comfort. His own children that he pretends to love.

Of course, the toy had to be on sale as to spend as little as possible. My sister's friend loved Barbies. I used my intuition to pick one of the dolls. She had kind of an alt look, coloured hair (I recall rainbow but can't find it... might've been blue hair, either way, she was alt) and thankfully, it was a good pick: the little girl loved it. But still, it should've been my sister, who knows her friend better than him or me, who should've made that decision. Yes, even at eight at the time. 

But the other memory that could qualify and gets somewhat intertwined with it is that he once bought gifts for my sisters... probably for the youngest's birthday party or a similar occasion, and he did not bother to remove the "-20%" tag. It was sitting here, red-orange, right on the package, staring at whoever looked at it.

The rage boiled up to a stupid level inside of me. I called him out on it.

His reply was:

"They're young, they don't understand."

Oh, they do. And even if they don't, they will remember something. Fuck you, man. 

Mom says that my grandmother did exactly that to him once with a sweater that she left the sale tag on and that it hurt him. But somehow he has literally no problem repeating the past. After two years of therapy. Almost as if therapy was either useless or just made him worse by giving him the perfect excuses to keep acting like a raging piece of shit.

***

I just told the corduroy pants girl on Vinted that next time she should show it in the ad, but nothing more. I wasn't going to bark at her for some very fixable little defect. There are a thousand worse things in life than a slightly damaged pair of pants that is otherwise entirely wearable. 

I think my chevron sweater will go, too. It's a bit oversized, it's one of the first things I bought when I came here... and I don't really like it all that much anymore. My yellow sweater stays, I love that one and yellow looks great on me. So will my pink turtleneck, this shade of pink also is a colour I really love. But yeah, several other things will just... go. 

***

In my bathroom cupboard, I came across that bottle of Flower by Kenzo. Birthday gift from him. I fell in love with this perfume a long time ago. Ironically, it was also one that I was afraid to wear because Korean frenemy loved it, but I thought, fuck her. Let me wear this beautiful powdery scent if I want to, because it smells great. 

But I don't know. Maybe I just fell out of love with it, or perhaps the association, now, is too strong. It's probably expired too: the bottle dates back to 2024, I believe. Almost two years old. Maybe it's time to say goodbye to it. It's like the fragrance and the argan body mist I would use when I was still with my ex. I never bought them again. It's a shame though, I love the smell of argan, but it reminded me too much of when I'd sprinkle it on me when we were about to have sex.  I have two body mists now, mono'i and a sweet one that smells like marshmallows and a hint of vanilla. I like to spray some when I'm out of the shower.

I'm also thinking of getting rid of my watercolours. Yeah, shame getting rid of art supplies, but I simply... don't really do watercolours. Have had them since 2019, but haven't used them all that much. I do art mostly with either a drawing tablet (which I haven't used in almost a year), or alcohol markers. Or pencils. But watercolours... I used to love doing them, and somewhere along the way, I don't know. I left them behind. I didn't want to leave them at my father's, but I don't think I'll be using them, either. So, off they should be, I guess. What's the point if I'm not using them...