i never wished for a happy family because i never really knew what a happy family was like. i always thought that i was content with what i had, and that i didn’t need anyone other than the people i already had. but then i realised, one day, that this is not up to me. it’s not up to me to choose who i want in my life, it’s not up to me to decide.
childhood should be one of the happiest memories of your life, and in some ways, it was, to me. but there will always be a part of me consistently nagging, consistently questioning, how different would my life have been if i had two parents who loved each other as much as they loved me?
it may be selfish to wish for things that are completely out of my control. because, again, it’s not up to me. but sometimes, i hear people talking about their fathers, about the support they’re given by both parents, even about the scoldings they get. usually, i never feel envious. i always thought having a mother was enough. but as the years go by and as my heart grows older, the hole in my life left by my missing father grows bigger and more noticeable as well. sometimes i wish he would be there to give me advice when it feels like my world is crashing down. sometimes i wish he would be there to help me with my studies because it feels like no one else is. sometimes i wish he would be there to share my joys and my worries and the ups and downs in my life. but he hasn’t been here for the past 6 years and i guess i’ve grown used to that absence. i’d like to think that his absence has shaped me to become more mentally strong in front of others, and more guarded of my emotions. it has taught me some form of independence as well, because all those times where i’ve truly felt helpless and alone, i had no one to turn to besides myself. his absence was something that made me, me. keeping my composure in the presence of others has always been something i’ve been rather skilled at, and i know that this didn’t develop purely by itself. thank you, dad, for helping me rely more on myself. because at the end of the day, we’re in this life alone. but i do remember the times when you placed me above you. i remember, recently, when i felt so distraught over nearly spoiling my laptop because it was a gift from you. i didn’t want to replace it. and even though i kept telling people that it meant so much to me because my laptop is the thing that i spend most of my time with, it’s my companion, yadda yadda, i think the deepest meaning, and the one that i would never tell anyone out loud, is still because you bought this for me. and i’m not going to just replace it because it has a special place in my heart. i guess you’ve managed to make a significant impact on me even though i haven’t seen you for a while. sometimes i wonder why i was so upset over the computer. but i guess that means i do miss you. and i do wish you were here. i remember when i had a band concert at the esplanade. i was nothing back then, i had no solos, i was just one player out of many. but i asked you to come, and you came. you flew from china to singapore to watch me play, even though i couldn’t really play at that time (what a joke). i remember you sent me pictures you took of me, and they were so significantly zoomed in because i was just that difficult to pinpoint. i can’t confirm this but i’d like to think that at that moment, you were proud of me. even though i was nothing but a little fifteen year old at her first band concert, contributing close to nothing because i couldn’t even play the instrument properly. despite all this, you still came. even though i didn’t manage to see you because you had to rush back to china right after my concert, you still came for a two hour performance. back then, i guess i didn’t really appreciate your efforts much. i didn’t even try to see you before you left. i regret it now. thank you for coming, thank you so much.
i say all this now, but during the rare moments in life where i actually get a choice whether i want to see him, i distance myself from that possibility as much as possible. is it bad, desperately wanting something deep down, but then lacking the courage and ability to pursue the journey towards gratification? it’s only when i get these chances, that i decide to shut down and act like everything in my life is sufficient, and that i don’t need more. it’s not, though. it never will be. but then again, i know that he did not choose to be the kind of father he is. feelings are uncontrollable, rampant, misleading – i can’t blame them for deciding that they would be better off apart than maintaining some facade of happiness. i know that they both did not choose to place me in the middle of chaos, but they did, anyway. they also chose infidelity, which is something i would never be able to forgive either of them for, but then again, it’s not up to me. their choices are not my choices. i remember being a child, barely seven years old, reading my mother’s mushy, romantic texts on her phone directed to a man i did not know. i couldn’t comprehend it then, but as the years went by and i was forced to recognise the true nature of my parents’ relationship with each other, i understood. i also remember that trip to hong kong when i was nine years old. it was meant to be a family trip – me, my mother, and my father. i think they were fools to think that they could maintain this idea of “family trips”. i acted like i didn’t know a lot back then. but i did, and it made me uncomfortable. but then the big incident happened, there was more infidelity, and that was when i truly realised that i was never going to experience a happy family. at least not when i became more mature or when i grew older. that trip was painful for everyone and there is nothing i want more than to suppress it in the back of my mind forever. sometimes, i want to blame my dad. why did you do that? i also want to blame my mother. you did it too, way before he did. why are you making it such a big deal? i’ve kept this unhappiness sealed tightly within me for the past few years because it’s not my battle to fight and it’s not my place to say anything. but you both have caused me an unbearable amount of pain, confusion and suffering and that’s something i can probably never forgive you for.
the presence of a mother has also taught me a lot. i remember the moment when i truly admired and respected my mother, not only as a mother, but also as a woman. seeing her take charge, looking composed, showing off her skills – it made me respect her so much. being a single mother is never easy but somehow she has done it, and i’m still here after 17 years. though i wouldn’t say i’ve been the best, and neither has she, our faults are what make us the people we are today. the sight of your mother physically hurting herself because of something you did wrong is a sight that leaves a mentally scarring image, and i think those instances have built up my mental strength by a significant amount. keeping your emotions in check is something that i think everyone struggles with, but through years of emotional torture because of my own flaws, she’s imparted that skill in me, and that’s what makes me, me. you haven’t been the best mom, and i haven’t been the best daughter, but for years, i’ve felt like what you gave me was enough. it was sufficient, and it helped me grow. even though i’ve openly rebelled, even though i’ve been rude, you never once completely gave up on me as a person, so thank you. something i’ve always wanted to do was to make you proud of me. to make you feel like you did a good job being both parents at the same time. and i really hope that one day i’ll be able to achieve that.
if i had the choice, i would want to experience a happy family. but if it’s not with you both, the people who made me, then i’d rather not. i guess i’ve grown to appreciate what’s become of my life. both your absences, and presences, have shaped me into becoming the person i am today, and though i don’t necessarily love every aspect of my life, it’s something i want to cherish. i do wish i’ll be able to see you both together in the same space one day, without any harsh words flung at each other. i hope that when this happens, i’ll be able to feel contented, and not uncomfortable like i always have felt. i hope you both have matured as much as i have through the years, too. i appreciate both of your efforts in trying to deal with things, especially with a young child thrown into the mix. both of your flaws have helped me grow, and because of that, thank you. when i started writing this i felt a slight sense of dissatisfaction and almost discontent because of how your actions deprived me of the happy family that everyone else has. but then i realised it was never up to me, anyway. things happen because they were meant to happen. and sticking with things just because it’s something you desire won’t necessarily bring happiness. so, instead of feeling like i’ve missed out on very important parts of childhood, and instead of focusing on the hole in my heart in the shape of my father, i guess i just have to learn to mend it, or deal with it as best as i can. i haven’t spoken to you in a while, but i guess it’s as much my fault as it is yours. you’ve done a lot for me when you were here, and i guess remembering that makes the hole a little bit smaller.
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 11:27 PM UTC
People often say that
you need bad days to build better days.
You need rain to grow flowers.
But why does it feel like my bad days are endless?
My head feels like it’s eating up my heart.
Hollowing out every semblance what I used to be,
scooping out all my memories,
leaving the barren remains of a fragile heart.
This feeling of emptiness does subside, though.
Sometimes, when I’m reminded of
two hour phone calls,
incessant texting,
unending laughter,
my heart feels half full
rather than half empty.
But other times,
some things just hit you like a truck.
Brevity is layered in every little aspect of our lives,
we are one in seven billion.
In the end, who are we, really?
To feel sad, to feel happy.
We are nothing but mannequins,
living a life we were destined to –
no matter how empty, or how full,
and then eventually having to face
Death.
After all, Life is just four letters out of twenty six.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 6:16 AM UTC
it was not until i was seventeen years old that i was finally exposed to the worst feeling in the world, also known as emotional pain. the stinging in your eyes as you inwardly curse yourself for being weak. being the loser of your own battle as you feel the hot streaks down your cheeks. the overwhelming lump in your throat that only gets larger as you fight to pick yourself up. the piercing in your ears as you block out the rest of the world in a valiant attempt to find yourself again.
though sometimes, when you win the war of keeping it all in, the stabbing in your heart intensifies. because nothing went wrong. nothing is wrong. everything is completely fine. i am completely fine.
and then you realise that what you wanted from the beginning was for your heart to be an open book, for your tears to flow freely, for your words to be ingrained in someone else's mind. but you knew you couldn't do that.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 6:11 AM UTC
it is so hard knowing that
the things and the people you love
are the ones that
slip
through your fingers
the easiest.
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
Where did all the children go?
The wails of parents resonate
Homes stripped of joy and cheer
What do you mean, Christmas spirit?
The wails of parents resonate
But there's nothing they can do
What do you mean, Christmas spirit?
Here's a red poppy, please feel better
There's nothing they can do
but try their hardest not to cry
Here's a red poppy, please feel better
but nothing will ever be the same
While they tried their hardest not to cry,
the cold marble wall filled with the names of their children
reminded them that nothing would ever be the same
And all they could think of was, where did all the children go?
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 9:00 AM UTC
"what's the best part about having a crush?"
*the giddiness,
the fantasies,
the butterflies.*
"what's the worst part about having a crush?"
*the fact that
the butterflies only exist in your stomach.
the fact that
the person at the back of your mind every minute and hour of the day --
doesn't think of you.
the fact that
all you can do is continue living, trying your hardest not to immerse yourself in the reverie.
the fact that
at the end of the day, some things don't work out the way you want them to.*
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
i wish you would leave
vacate the depths of my mind
i like you too much
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC
my head feels like it's eating up my heart
draining the lifeblood that kept me going
scraping out memories and happiness, and
leaving the barren remains of a fragile heart
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC
my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
you don't deserve love
even if it came running towards you
like a child to his mother
you don't deserve love
even if it slapped you in the face
like thunder during a storm
you don't deserve love
even if it appeared before you
pristine and untainted,
its purest form
you don't deserve love
because the people who loved you
only saw themselves hurting,
like a dagger,
YOUR dagger,
to their chests
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC