It’s been nearly four years that you’ve left me and mom. To be completely honest, I don’t really miss you everyday, but I do coincidentally, and today is one of those days. Mom told me that you were already in a place where you belonged, where you came from. But then again, my boyfriend (you know him, the one with moustache) told me that both our souls and bodies ceased to exist when we died. I don’t know who to believe so I, sometimes, wonder if I can have a trial test for death. Someone freaked out when I thought it out loud like it was unspeakable, but I was just wondering and I can’t limit my thoughts, you know.
Did you remember how much we were alike? I thought I only resembled physically but many people told me that even my gestures were very similar to yours. Remember, I didn’t even grow up seeing you everyday so I had no idea how it happened. Physical resemblances and gestures were not the only things that we shared. Mom said I got that weak mentality from you; she means being lazy, giving up and stressing out easily. I wasn’t sure if you knew it but mom sighed “like father, like daughter” in dissatisfaction if I couldn’t find what she sent me to look for. I could still feel the discontentment she had in that moment, like it had been pinned in my heart and I couldn’t seem to get rid of it. As I grow older, many people say that I remind them of you, and I’m not even sure it’s in a good way. You don’t exist anymore but you still overshadow me in various ways, and I have mixed feeling about that.
Past three years have been the most difficult years of my life. You know, I had some struggles in workplace and made a couple of changes. People I met were not the kind of persons I thought they were. I used to think that backstabbing was the only way for betrayal but I learned countless variations of sabotage. I thought such evilness only existed in Korean drama but I saw them in reality. I was too naïve that those experiences scared me like I never wanted to live in the society anymore. Also, I started to dislike and disgust with people which led to me quitting jobs. Mom was really disappointed with me for not standing up for myself and my rights. In my defense, I was young, unconfident, and scared. But surprisingly, she didn’t say that I was like you again. Anyway, as I grew older, I got smarter and was able to convince others, so I told mom that I quit my jobs for the sake of my mental health. I was still not sure whether my decisions were right but I had to keep telling myself that I did it to prioritize my mental health, and it wasn’t giving up.
But days like this, my decisions remind me of you… I have become the person who questions, “Have I become like dad, giving up on things and not getting anywhere in life?” Talk about not getting things done, I can’t even finish one single book these days, feeling like I don’t want to work nor even survive in this complex lifestyles that we are leading in jungle-like atmosphere. But then again, I thought what was worth the accomplishments? What does all that money we make mean? What do all the titles we put behind our names mean? At the end of the day, we are all tiny particles in the universe, we live and we die, like we mean nothing at all. When I turned 24, I wondered how you made it to 50 and how mom was still living. I think one needs something hopeful to look forward to and mom has me as her daughter, but I have none. At this point of life, I won’t be sad if I cease to exist because I feel as if I have lived long enough.
Since I was little, I knew that I rose above all the things that dragged me down, but wow dad, adulthood had ended my motivations, my reasons to overcome obstacles. My aspirations have become as frail as the petals of almost dead flowers, like they are barely hanging in, but you can see that they are going to fall in no time. I know that I only have myself to save me from spiraling downward but I don’t even want to read motivational, cliché kind of self-help books these days.
Father’s Day is drawing near and I see lots of ads like “last minute gift idea for your father” kinda shit but I’m wondering what kind of gift you gave me in 22 years with me out of 50 year-long lifespan. The best thing you gave me was a life, and the worst thing about it was that you gave me a pretty fucked up one. Now I’m fucking stuck with severe depression. It was so easy for me to blame all my failures on you, but I didn’t do it because it would make me a coward, and coward is the last thing I want to be known as when I die. If I still claim myself as a Buddhist, I’d say it’s just my karma but nope, I ain’t following any religion lately.
Anyway, it’s a quick update on how hard I’m trying to survive and I hope you are doing well wherever you are, probably, afterlife or something. May we never meet again if there is afterlife and Happy Father’s Day.