a not so ordinary day

An ordinary day, where we wake up and have breakfast. Cook, clean, pick up our son and entertain our other son at home all day.

A not so ordinary day, because I live to hear the phone ring and listen to your voice. Your voice that should be here, at home, with us. Your son needs you to play football. Your other son needs you to change his diaper, bathe him, tickle him and play.

It gets so quiet in the house when the kids are asleep. It gets so lonely. So alone.

Just to wake up the next day, another day. Another not so ordinary day.

that guilt

What would you say if you saw me now? What would you do? I wonder, because there is no one to talk to. And I remember we could talk about anything. Even though it was wrong for me to do so, but talking to strangers is so much easier. Keeping it all to myself is so much harder to deal with.

But I just don’t want to feel that guilt.

still in

We have only come to find out that the judge, the DA, the court’s justice and everyone else involved are a bunch of liars. It’s getting to 9 months that they keep you on lock down, without a case and without a trial.

I get envious of couples on the street, pictures on Facebook and weepy at movies. I’m crossing a thin line between sanity and a surreal sense of unbearable craziness. I’m sure the kids feel it, no matter how hard I try to hide it. Luckily, there’s enough for them to be distracted with. As for me? Distraction is difficult, moments of peace and quiet are painful, yet no one knows except my mom. No one.

There are times I want to share my heartache, my anger, my lack of faith in this country and its system. But to what use? Human beings can only dissapoint you, use it against you or look at you in different ways. If only they knew, is all I think about. I’m still here, still doing my job, every one else are just losers and wimps. They bitch and whine about insignificant matters, which makes it harder for me to not get even more angry.

If only they knew.

waiting on that day

Two more weeks. It only takes two more weeks to hear the judge rule again. To hear him finally say the words to release you from an injustice, a discriminating system, glued together by power abusive guards and police officers. We will both not be present. The stress it causes you to take the trip to court, the stress of me waiting around and listen to the lies all of them tell, right there, in court.

I can’t wait for you to get home. It’s been more than 6 months. Waiting impatiently, not knowing anything. There is so much you missed out already with the kids. We miss you all so much, we love you so dearly. Up til now, I’ve not had the chance to cry because I’ve been trying my best to stand strong.

I just want you to come home. Be a family again. Hold me again.

A New Day {from the archives}

Stumbled upon this old post that got lost on the web:

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.” Alexander Graham Bell saidonce upon a time. And as I look upon a new day, this pretty much covers it.

A New Day. Could be a New Beginning. Closing chapters, start writing a new one. Flip the page and start all over again. I wish it were that simple. Sometimes you don’t wanna let go, because I knew it worked before. And there are times I give up and throw it away.

Maybe some things will never change. Yet maybe other things are meant to change. Why’s it that they say people don’t like change, when it’s what we crave the most in our life?

Who knew then, what I know now?

what could have been

My life could have been perfect, I’m pretty sure my mom feels that way. She says she feels tormented on the inside to see me suffer the way I do. She does not approve of my husband, she does not approve the way I changed ever since I met him. She just doesn’t approve anything I did, have done or will do.

A long time ago, I stopped trying to make it right. I stopped disillusioning myself for the happiness of her or any other person for that matter. There is no way I can make it right in her eyes, besides, any measures to get back in line with her dreams have long gone. Sometimes, I do think I could have had an easier life, an easier way of living at least. Life and “living life” are two different things, ya know?

Unfortunately or fortunately – depends on how you see it – life has been… painful, tearful, disappointing, mesmerizing but fun at times. My childhood was carefree, common problems with classmates and friends, plenty of shameful events and plenty of fun times. in hindsight, it was the foundation of my conscience of being “different” or bi-cultural. It was very clear from a young age I’m neither one or the other, but always and one plus the other totally opposing cultures. A sense of pride is what I got out of it, my life was just so much richer, unique and made me find a place somewhere in between even though never really belonging to one or the other. Sounds difficult, but it worked out for me, in a kind of double-agent way.

But perhaps because of my sense of not belonging, I was lost. But definitely because of my dad passing away at my blossoming age, I was lost even more. The future didn’t exist for a long time, school was of no interest, fleeing into good times at the clubs with my friends was what I wanted to do. That period of my life seems ever-stretching but seemed long, because that backlash happened quite some time after my dad’s passing. My dad. My hero. A man of not many words, only the very necessary. The calm factor within the family home, opposite to the explosive and drama queen character of my mom that I just could never really figure out.

I still can’t deal with the explosive character of my mom. We have been clashing back and forth ever since that strong, calm pillar left us. I’ve thought of running away many a times, running away from a situation that I didn’t know how to deal with. Even up til today, I don’t know how to deal with it which is why I moved away almost an hour from our family home. Not too close, not too far. It felt liberating.

I have barely 3 weeks left to deliver our second child and just a few nights ago, she broke me. Again. Just like during the first pregnancy. But you are not here. I can’t crawl away in your arms, I can’t feel you hugging me, I can’t hear you comforting me. I can’t get to that feeling that the two of us can face the world alone. And that hurts.

I keep telling the baby to wait for daddy to come home, it can’t be long now. It has to be.

I could have had an easy way of living, I could have had finished my studies all the way, I probably could have had my own house, my own capital. But instead, I took a different road. A difficult one, very rocky, the type of road you have to go all the way down first before you can reach the point where it can go uphill. A lot of times we can see how high the mountain is, but we just keep slipping down. I know a lot of women in my position would have quit a long time ago, there’s no way a woman could stay this loyal, this understanding, this enduring towards any man. At the expense of estranging from the rest of her family, her financial situation, her frustrations.

Christmas is coming near, but it means nothing to me. A New Year is coming ahead, but it’s meaningless. I live by the day, hoping the baby will stay in place for a while. I try to stay strong for the baby, for our son, but when I’m alone and have a moment of silence, I break down. I can’t stop crying until I distract myself again with cleaning up, moving things around, watching movies. I search the pictures on my mobile phone to see you and our son, smiling into the camera like it was yesterday. It’s been two months.

I could have had it all, but only as an empty shell, with that lonesome feeling of not belonging. But I chose to belong to myself and to my husband, on a tough bumpy road that only seems to be going down. But hey, we can still look up and see the sky. Together with you, that is a mighty feeling.

 

tough on the outside

You tell me I’m strong, but I feel so weak. Our baby is kicking inside of me, counting the last weeks and you’re not here. I need you the most right now, I can’t do this alone.

Will you listen to me when you come back? Will you be able and willing to let go of everyone around us for the sake of our family?

Friends don’t mean a thing, they are the ones that got you in to this mess. They are the ones that the police are looking for, but they are holding you for the sake of them.

Justice is not fair, at least not in this country. It takes an innocent man to be guilty, and the guilty to roam free as if they’re innocent.

curiosity

I still think of you. You still cross my mind. A closed chapter, bookmarked to read back every now and then.

Sometimes I still take a peek to see what you’re doing in life. And I wonder. I question.
But you seem happy. It feels you went back to your roots, back to a trusted place of love, hope, comfort.

I’d like to believe we both moved on. Yet, somewhere I’d also like to know if you still think about me too.

no fool

How dark the night falls without gazing stars
when the sadness overtakes me in my loneliness
I suppress the tears behind my eyes
that pierce me with every moment offguard
Every breathe I take to gain strength
weaken my soul on the inside
Helplessness feels worse than pain
and the anger brings more tears
People walk by on the streets
if only they could sense what I feel
But my face remains straight
knowing that I really can’t fool you, my son.

venomous

Your words were like the venom of a snake, slowly taking control of me. Yet, it was another fall that taught me how to pick myself up again. I thought you showed me a new me, but it was my desire to reach out to the meaningless world that was of such strength – it placed you right alongside with it.

I am renewed, but in so many ways you will never understand. If only I could take have 2 minutes in your thoughts, to confirm what I already know.

You thought you could fool me, but I chose not to end up like you instead.