Striving

By
I’d always wanted to be alone in our six bedroom house that always seemed to be chaotic and uncontrollable. Everyday it was as if a moment of silence was never possible or even close to realistic. Every special occasion seemed to take place in our house rather than someone else’s. It wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy them; it was just that joy was probably too much to ask at a time of no relaxation or end point; but just a continuing warp of pressure, motion and screaming children. Even my room which had always been my resort to get away from it all, no longer felt like a resting place. So why it was then when everything I wanted didn’t seem to feel so good inside? My brothers had graduated, which I had always wanted more than anything else. Without my brothers, I wasn’t embarrassed to wear something and if caught, that I would be laughed at. I could come home to the sound of silence downstairs all to myself, and not be interrupted by the loud jingles of my brother's ringing phone. I didn’t have to hide. That was all I really wanted in the first place. And now, as I sat alone in grief and darkness, I regretted my own words.

I didn’t need to worry about arguing with my brother about which movie to watch, because I was alone now, and T.V. only reminded me of what I didn’t have beside me. My brother's blaring radio was silenced in the corner of my room, with a trace of dust lingering on top. The silence surrounding it now seemed louder than his music. I no longer had to ask my brothers to hurry up in the shower, because now it was always bare and silent when I looked in the black doorway.
This wasn’t anything I expected, especially not out of myself. I had always wanted things, and never had the chance to enjoy them. So now what I asked for, what I wanted most, I hated myself for wanting. Silence was meant to be peaceful, calming and easier to think in, but the silence I could hear was only saddened emptiness.
My parents couldn’t see the way I felt inside. They never understood me more than from my appearance, but Nick did. Maybe it was because I never allowed them to get close to me. I was never the person in my family to express what I felt or desired in life, but to only work for it. So now in my dire need, I longed for what I hated from the start, as my feelings now were obviously visible. I could now see myself as someone selfish, someone who took greed before wants. What I had wanted was to be alone, somewhere where there wasn’t commotion or loud distractions. Now after being greedy and having fulfillment, I wished I could take it all away. Even though I hated my brothers and loved them at the same time, my love was stronger than my guilt for wanting them to leave.
Their rooms were empty and abandoned like they had wanted me to feel this way and to suffer without them. So as I struggled to realize what I wanted and didn’t, I finally began to understand why they left.
Every child grows into a teen. From a teen we unfold into something which helps us to strive forward at a resilient pace. Without leaving and moving on, we stay in place, without a chance to learn and succeed. Without succeeding the only other option is failure. They moved on in order to start again, just like every person was meant to do. Now I realize that everyone must do the same in order to continue on living, breathing and succeeding. A year from now, I will do the same. I will move on without realizing what I have left behind. My parents perhaps will once feel the same just as I did when I was alone and hurting inside.
But now I realize I wasn’t selfish. I was dependant on others to make me smile, laugh and feel good inside. I learned that what leaves, finds its way home, and always returns. But in the mean time, no one can change me or how I feel about emptiness. I learned that as each day goes by, I am still me; still thriving, still breathing, still living.
Emptiness is just another feeling that passes and returns. And when it returns, I breathe again.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback