the family

It’s weird what catches our eye…
We see what we want to see & sometimes we see through our unconscious mind.
Sitting on a park bench, reading a book and people watching was nice way to spend a beautiful evening.

My heart sank a little and I felt my throat closing in…I was so scared to look …
Look at the perfection that I never had or will ever have.

It’s the perfect family…
They were brown, some kind of Asian like me.
Mother holding the father’s hand and the father had his arm around their only child – a daughter about my age.
They were colourful. At a park that was still waiting to blossom, they were the real flowers.
It was so beautiful but yet I was so scared to look. Scared that if I look too long, I might see a flaw and ruin the image of perfection that I’m seeing.
I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes got a little wet…
I hold back, in fear that …someone might see me spying or violating their privacy
I kept watching without being obvious till they disappeared behind the crowd of other families.

I never knew that could exist.
I tried to picture mine but I know if my ‘family’ ever did do something like that, it would be fake and it would end in an argument.

It’s this constant pain…the void…the ache, it just never leaves.

I feel very empty.

 

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This possibly my 10th time trying to write a blog …consistently.

I never wrote a blog that actually stayed on for a year.  When it becomes too personal, it becomes too hard to handle. Too painful to write and share with strangers.  I start to wonder what are they thinking when they read?

This blog isn’t about chocolate.  Even thought I’m addicted to it. I would like to live in a chocolate bubble if I could. But I think more so I’m addicted to pain. I don’t want it yet it finds me. Kinda like Chocolate. In my world, its everywhere I turn.

I’m in constant pain. This just isn’t going away. It isn’t some boy this time. It’s not something I can just get over with time. It’s my father that caused me the pain. He broke my trust. I haven’t seen him for over a month. He hurt me more than anyone in this world and yet, he thinks just telling me, “So what if I lied?” is sufficient enough to pretend like nothing ever happened. What kind of father is this? I didn’t want your money. I wanted your love. I wanted to trust you and be close to you so I can talk to you. I don’t need your money. You can’t buy my trust back with money. I’m still alive without your money…but I feel dead inside knowing someone I loved for so long, admired and trusted can throw away everything so quickly.

With everything else in my past. I can’t get this brick off my chest. Till the day comes that I actually tell you how much you have hurt me, I’ll try to find my own happiness. I am going to be selfish. I will find it.

Here is my search…