This man isnât happy â diabetic, overworked, alcoholic, tired, broke and broken. He didnât have a good life. Born to a large family, stopped schooling at 13, experienced multiple business failures, got cheated of his life savings by so-called friends, married a discontented wife, supports 4 kids, none of whom cared enough to say hi, nothing much to his name.
Life really is a vicious cycle.
His lack of an education meant that he could not communicate effectively in English, a serious disadvantage when it came to building a career, or understanding the endless documents that the government sends him regarding housing, loans, retirement, whatnots.
His lack of love in his early upbringing meant that his kids could not receive fatherly love, and his wife could not get his attention. Friends. They were his world. Wife and kids? They were his burdens, the source of his misery, the symbols of his endless need to work, work and work.
Instead of being part of his kidsâ happiness, they forego including him. Him, who gave them life, also brought them pain.
Imagine this: waking up at 3am, changing into school uniforms, getting bundled into the lorry. Napping in the vehicle till the deliveries have been made, and suddenly, they reach school at 6am. Carrying the goods and delivering them to stall owners in the school canteen, sitting around waiting for the morning bell to ring. At the end of school, taking a bus to the family stall, changing out of school uniform, and serving customers till whatever time it is. Great if you have time to get your homework done while youâre there. Going home, getting scolded for whatever misdeeds done, showering, cramping in a tiny bedroom with 3 other people, waking up at 3am.
We didnât cry over it. We didnât show emotions about it. My brothers and I simply went through with it. Because itâs our lives, itâs the way things were, are.
Of course, we received many privileges. Growing up, we had parties, we went out with our friends and we spent whatever cash we got. After the age of 16, we never worried about being reprimanded for reaching home past midnight.
This man, heâs like an oversized kid. Thinking about it now, he really does behave like one. Friends over family, because kids donât know how to prioritize any other way. Enjoyment over rest, because sleep is for the weak. Being juvenile over little things, glaring at people like they owe him a living, brushing off his wifeâs reminders and chiding.
I, I have a part-time job. Have had it since I graduated from junior college. Wow, itâs been 3 years? Pays me $12 an hour. Alongside the job, Iâm currently studying full-time in a local university. Other than for special occasions, like my birthday, I havenât really gotten allowances from him, or from my mum, in a long time. I eat, drink, shop and pay my bills with whatever I earn. I spend as many hours as I can in school, because to be honest? I hate being at home. I hate seeing whateverâs at home.
I started writing this to write about the man who so influences my life. But I donât know where this is going.
I, I have never had a relationship. I never tried. Itâs not that I donât know who I like, or that Iâve never liked anyone, I just never feel like I could give anyone the love they deserve. I knew what guys liked, and I knew how to be the opposite. I grew fat, my acne-covered face is also full of acne scars and I was always so strong, so independent. I didnât need a guy, thatâs what I demonstrated. I always lied and told my friends, nah, Iâm too young, weâre all too young, and we should focus on ourselves and not on getting attached to another human. As much as I believe that, I also didnât believe in myself.
How? Iâve never learnt to. My parents, they fight. Ah, all couples do. Do they punch each other? Push each other into glass doors and break those doors? Do they drink so much, get so intoxicated, they attempt to commit suicide in front of their kids? Even as their kids beg them not to? That was my dad by the way, my mum never did. The next day he woke up, itâs as if he had no memory of it.
We gave up. When they fought, we stayed in our rooms. We stopped retorting them. We stopped telling them about our days. They donât know the lives we lead. Every time we ask a simple question,
âWho closed the laptop?â
and the response we receive, itâs as if weâre the parents, and theyâre the kids.
âI only closed it, I didnât touch anything else!â
That not just answered the question, but begged another â why are you talking back as if we said you set fire to the books?
My mum, sheâs a frumpy woman. Itâs easy to get her upset. Mention money, or her husband, or permission to go out with friends. Anything triggers her actually. Because she has had a sad life, apparently. No friends, though she just had a holiday with 2 ladies sheâs known for 2 decades. No money, though her husband always, always gives in to her. No happiness, though she has a roof over head, living parents, living kids, living husband, a personal computer, whatever. However, I can get her. Her husband doesnât care anymore. Whether sheâs awake, asleep, happy, upset, out with friends, staying at home, he doesnât care. Unless sheâs stopping him from drinking with his friends. Then he cares. And that can really be miserable. Another reason why I donât look forward to marriage.
I donât want to write anymore. I donât want to think. Itâs too hard, Iâm tired.
Thatâs all for now, I guess.
stormborns
yousharknotpass
jimmyeatworldofficial
amandla
2087
gummygunk
