Waiting game


I’m done. I waited all my life- all 25 minus thetimeihadnoconsciousthoughts years waiting to be affirmed,acknowledged,loved. I did all the tricks,memorized all the words,aced all the tests, perfected all the manners and etiquettes – for what? All I wanted was some acceptance from you- the people who invited me to this cold place. All I wanted was the knot to be tied so life wouldn’t escape me- so that I could be full. It was like a balloon that’d I blow up and give to you to tie, and you’d let it go for me to run after before all air escaped it, only to repeat the same process hoping that this time you’d tie it so I could play with it. It was always a next year, a next goal, a next level- and I was gullible enough to believe that the next would be the last.

I’ve been very very patient and tried to hold up both myself and you. I tried to piece myself together every time I fell apart while apologizing for my frail nature. I’d work relentlessly to kiss your feet because a broken piece of my heart fell on them. I never wanted to believe evil of you – never. Even now, more than 15 years of heartache and pain, I still feel a pang of guilt, albeit vaguely.

I don’t love you. That was the toughest thing I came to realize. I wanted to. I want to. When people speak of their loving relationship with their parents, I feel sad because I know that I’d never experience that. And I’ve done everything possible to piece our relationship together- everything. But in the end, I had to choose between my life and you. I thought my death would do neither of us good, right? Because that’s what it came to- I felt there was no point in my living. I felt useless and worthless. Yet, I am sorry about how things are and I wish you could understand me and my pain. I’ve been a good kid all my life, so why is it that you vilify me now that I’m not the way you wished me to be?Why is everything I’ve done not good enough? Why am I never good enough? Why do you always see what you hoped I could be instead of who I actually am?

I never realized how strong and amazing I was. I never ever ever even thought that could be me. But somehow, everything I did, you took credit for. There was never a school you chose for me; even from the age of 8, I knew what I wanted and I’d insist on it come hell or high water. I was always sensitive and caring and diligent. Hard working. I was the pride of my school, but because it wasn’t acknowledged by you, it never registered with me. I always thought my accomplishments were incidental. Whenever I’d accomplish something, it’d always be a that’s good, but you can do better. Why? Why did you rob me of my efforts, however feeble they seemed in your eyes?

I don’t really give a shit anymore. I’m indifferent. That’s worse than hate, you know? Indifference.But I still care for you. I just don’t want you to care for me. Ever.

It’s made me stronger, you know. And all those efforts were never in vain. You might have discarded them, but I’m out looking for them. I’m going to give them a home in my heart, where they’ve always belonged.

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