Friday, March 17, 2006
I was just on the phone with my mum.
It's been awhile since I had that deep kind of conversation with her, and I miss that. During my semester breaks, I used to spend my evenings talking to her, the two of us alone in the study. I love those times, because she would talk to me about her dreams, wishes and worries. She never fails to impart some kind of wisdom during each conversation. Sometimes she'll cry when she talks about her late father, the grandfather that I never come to know, then I'll be sad for her too. Ironically, in that sense, I become significantly closer to my mum only after I left home for tertiary education. The thing is, the only time I feel that close to her is during those two months of the year when I'm home. The remaining 10 months, I'm actually quite distant to my family.
I seldom call (excuse: busy, 9 to 5 in uni mah). I seldom sms (excuse: sms-ing doesnt feel tat syok.. call better mah). I did a lot of soul searching today. I've been examining myself and my relationship with God (more on that next time), and I've been examining myself and my relationships with my parents, siblings, my sister especially. You know what I found out?
I hate myself for being the person that I am today.
There's nothing about myself that I can be proud about. There are a lot of things pricking my conscience. My sister went through a really painful heartbreak recently, and me, being the world's greatest jerk, havent been comforting her that much. Thinking of it now, my heart could just break. She's been there for me through everything. I remember my first heartbreak years ago. I was bawling the whole night, I know secretly she thought I was being silly for crying that much over a boy (tiki, u noe who u are), but she didnt say anything about it. She just comforted me. Then last year, when again another time I got my heart broken (jeez.. got nothing better to do ka), she came all the way from Shah Alam to see me, and I remember she woke up in the middle of the night to comfort me since I cant sleep. But if you ask me, I couldnt remember a single time when I was the one comforting, and she the one crying. Oh, yes, I know her disappointments, I know when she cry, but I was never there for her when she needs someone.
In short, I took her for granted, along with my dad, my mum and my brother. I'm consumed with so much guilt now for everything that I failed to do for them. What kind of a daughter am I? What kind of a sister?
A daughter and sister of the worst kind probably.
Di, Mi, Rica, Ben, I'm sorry. I really am. I just hope it's not too late to make reparations.
The funny thing is I was always so sure that I wont be one of those irresponsible daughters who leave their parents at the old folks home because they were too busy to care for them. Without me realising it, I have now become one of them. Everything is me, me, ME. The realisation of what kind of a person I really am just sucks. Big time. My gosh, how long have I been this monster?