Mama's old letter

i don't understand what i'm feeling and i don't understand why i'm feeling this way. i tried so hard to sort it out, but it's like trying to loosen a lump of entangled threads, you can't just pull one thread free from the others, and you don't know which end is which.

i feel like i'm about to burst. like a dam that's about to overflow, but not quite. the water inside are stirring in a chaotic current, intending to break out but the walls are holding fast. all it needs is one crack, just a little leak, and then surely later everyhing will gush out.

i want to cry and get it over with, but the tears just wouldn't come out. my brows are tired of the effort as i coax my tears to well in my eyes, thinking about everything that hurts. from frustration, to fear, to desperately wanting to know something and not having a way to know. but its like having a constipation, you muster all your strength in coaching the sh*t to come out, only for it to go back inside if you take even just one breath. i want to cry, i want to break the dam, i don't want to keep it all in.

i used to cry just like everybody else, but as i get older, my tears are becoming rare. maybe i overdid the im-a-big-girl-and-independent-i-don't-cry resolve. it feels awful. i long to feel the warm flow of tears in my face, knowing that in a way it'll soothe my listless heart, as a balm would do to an aching wound.

i have been like this for a couple of days. sympathetic friends recommended reading 'The Notebook', a novel by Nicholas Sparks. the story might not be in any way related to my 'issues', but they guaranteed it will start the tears coming. i made a mental note to get me a copy of the book.

i pushed the emotional cargo to the corner of the mind and continued packing. amid the cluttered paper stuffs, i found the letter my mom sent me two years ago, when i just started my assignment in japan. it was a short letter in her handwriting. the words were not grand that you could make them lyrics of a song, or put some snippets of it to an inspirational card. but when i read it, without the help of any conscious effort, a big fat tear fell from from my eye. then followed by another, and another. and just like that, a crack was formed in the walls of the dam, then came out a leak, a trickle. soon enough the crack got bigger and bigger and the dam broke altogether making a flood of sobs and stream of tears. pent up emotions bubbled to the surface as i cried my heart out. when i was a kid, crying was not just an expression of being hurt. but also a privilege and a therapy to release whatever's gnawing inside. my mother said that then, when i cried, i didn't do it in the corner hiding my face. i was holding my chin up challenging whatever or whoever made me cry. i was timid alright, but she said i had a different kind of strength.

i handle pain quite nicely alright, but it's still the same pain. strength doesn't make the pain any less hurtful.

i'm now wiping my face. the outpour didn't last long. but that was enough and it feels so much better after. now that i've unloaded some weight, i can try being brave again.

however sad and messed up the world seems to be at times, life still goes on.