While Waiting for You

As usual, I woke with a start. It’s 3 a.m. and she’s still not home. Tomie must have told her about me leaving. I bet she went off drinking with her friends again to gulp down her loneliness. I can’t help it. I have to leave. I know how much she loves me and that she really want me to stay, but I feel that I am only adding stress to her. I did mean to tell her about it tonight, but she never came home. Tomie must have told her.

Fina, my dear aunt, she gave me hospitality, allowed me to stay in her house while I find myself a stable job to afford my own apartment. While grateful, I couldn’t help but notice several imperfection in her humble abode and constantly tried to make amends.

I now know that you can’t fix things people don’t want touched. They want it to stay broken. I should just let it be, but sometimes I can’t help myself. I just had to fix it. I should know better than to meddle in other people’s business. How can you not, though? Especially when you live under the same roof, eat the same food, and sleep at the same time?

Tomie… she gave me a job at her place. While grateful, I really didn’t like it when her friends would tattle to her about my working habits, particularly of the bad days when everyone is under pressure. What about their working habits? I never even said a word about them to anyone, why would they do that to me? It’s not nice because then Tomie would tell Fina, who would in turn use it to silence me when I try to help around her house.

I felt trapped.

I felt grateful, but trapped.

It’s one thing to live comfortably, and it’s another to live under the mercy of your benefactor. It’s a stress that’s probably not all that healthy.

It’s time to move on. Besides, it’s better to practice cooking alone that way, Tomie and Yuuro wouldn’t complain about the food tasting weird or funny or just plain “edible”. Yeah, I tried to cook but it takes a while for me to perfect one dish. I haven’t gone past Chaahan.

Folding the clothes, washing the dishes and clearing the center table at 4:15 a.m., I humbly admit that I am to blame. If only I can master my own emotion and let the people who can’t, rant on and on about their miserable lives, I probably wouldn’t have to feel this way: guilty and worrisome. She’s really late. This is probably the first time since that night when she came home this late.

Doesn’t she have work today? I wonder.

I bet she really feels lonely that I am leaving. I feel very responsible for that feeling. I don’t mean to make her feel lonelier than ever before, but I would rather that she feels lonely that I leave than give both of us unnecessary stress for another year.

I am really sorry that you felt I give you stress, Tita Fina. And I am sorry that I made you hate me enough to yell the words the other night. Ah, if only it weren’t this hard to say the words of apology, of love, perhaps things would be easier.

Crying as I type this journal, I wonder if you knew.

Latest posts by paleam

Share and enjoy...

If you enjoyed and liked this post, LIKE it on your Facebook. Consider also leaving a comment below to share your thoughts with others.

Speak Your Mind