I honestly didn't think life was going to be the way it is. I don't remember when I last felt so low or unhappy....
INTROSPECTION
I honestly didn't think life was going to be the way it is. I don't remember when I last felt so low or unhappy. Once you step out of your home, you realize no one cares—whether you're hungry, sick, depressed, or frustrated. It's a different kind of loneliness. Your parents are aging, but you only see them a handful of times. Your siblings have their own lives, and you seldom find yourselves together under the same roof. You miss your grandparents, but you can't visit their graves because there are always other pressing issues.
Or so they say.
And you mourn alone. You miss them alone. You reminisce all by yourself.
I used to wonder why, every time ’80s music played in the car, my mother would start crying. I used to watch her from the side mirror of the car and wonder why, when it was such a good day and nothing was wrong, she was crying.
She wasn’t crying for anything in that moment. She was mourning a life she had before all of the adulthood, responsibilities, the feeling of being utterly alone as a woman.
The night I stayed up with my newborn, and no one could take my pain away, it changed me from within. I knew that, one way or another, I would have to do it by myself. These worldly bonds and relations mean nothing. Only your parents care for you unconditionally. They can see your swollen eyes and know that you've been crying all night. The rest of the world just goes on with their lives. They don't care if you've eaten, slept well, are in pain, or not. Or, in fact, if you're even missing your grandparents. They don't know what they were like or how much you loved them. The others just hijacked your life, achievements, and happiness. They took away all joy and kept it for their own pleasures.
I guess, as a woman, you have to realize this sooner or later. You have to build a home within yourself. That's why God gave women a womb. If He thought a man was capable of sustaining and nurturing life, He would have given man this ability. But He knew—man was incapable of doing so. Women hone, nurture, adorn, and create beauty, but at the cost of everything they've ever owned and loved. They are made to let go of their past lives and build new homes, even in places with the bleakest flicker of hope.
But for now, it feels like it's the year of rest—of letting the soul soak up the remaining nutrients and minerals. And when it's ready, it will nurture another heap of lush trees and fruits. But for now, it lays barren and quiet, with the sweet sound of nothingness echoing in the wisps of December's cold. It doesn't want to be bothered with the task of once again rebuilding. I've realized it takes one life to create another. Two rarely exist simultaneously. An autumn must meet its fated end for spring to arrive. And so, I think my thoughts may rest for now. I know that whatever hurts, aches, and pains I carry within my heart are, at least, mine. And once again, there will be room for hope.
