Saturday, February 11, 2012
I come from a small family. A family that is only getting smaller, one death at a time. With all the loss around me it somehow seems strange how and where did I find the audacity to move to a foreign country, so far away from what little I have left. But I did. And I even though I look back quite a lot, I've never regretted my decision. Because with every death the bonds that tied me to the living started to feel more and more like multiple nooses around my neck. I resembled Miss Havisham, from Dickens' Great Expectations; I was getting old without ever being young and without ever having a life to call my own. So I left. Now all that is left to tie us is blood and love. Now things are as they should always have been. It's sad, but it's true. Now my life is whatever I decide to make of it. The future is moving forwards and I'm creating my own path. And who knows? I might even start my own family. To create a new future instead of being always chained to the past. More than anything all that I feel for my family is love. No more resentment, no more feeling trapped in a hiatus. I'm living my life, and I love them for being part of it. And it feels right.