Compunction

When I was 8, I wanted to be a postal worker because I have this secret fantasy of reading strangers' mails. When I learnt about the dead letters office in the UK's postal service, I was so fascinated. I imagined myself opening up mails which were returned or lost; pocketing whichever mails that I fancied. I would then write back to the sender, pretending to be the intended recipient. I still carry this thought with me.

I've always wanted a telescope so that I could peer into everyone's world. To study them. To imagine that I know them. I just want to be.

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I used to think that I am a nice person. That I have so much to give, so much to love and to be loved about. But when I look into the mirror, I don't like what's looking back at me - this ugly person pretending to be living my life. Sometimes, I don't look into the mirror at all because I don't want to see who's running my life. But I do love me. I just need to stop being so critical of every little thing around me, in me and with me.

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Today, I went grocery shopping with the father. It has been more than a decade since I've last done that. We went to the neighbourhood supermarket, bought hotdogs for the boys, fruits for the family and some redemption for me.

As Luck would have it, there was a heavy downpour and the father and I were stranded. The next best thing was to have breakfast, together, at a coffeeshop nearby. Despite sitting in a pretty-well sheltered area, whenever the wind blew our way, sprays of rain swept into our faces. The father then sat in front of me to shield the rain from my steaming bowl of fish noodles. I noticed that his packet of fried noodles was slowing soaking up up the raindrops left behind from the rain. I teared and I'm glad it was raining in my face.

The father then broke my thoughts when he said, "Don't hold your chopsticks so near to the top! It's bad luck!"

I got a little cheesed off, feeling all the old anger rushing back to me. I told him off rather rudely, and we didn't speak anymore. My bad.

Later in the evening, I popped by to see the grandma and while complaining about the father to her, she interrupted me and said, "If you hold your chopsticks so high up, you'll leave the family and marry off to a faraway country! Your father did no wrong! Don't be so stubborn! Listen to the elderly or you'll regret it! Silly girl you!"

My heart broke. Bad luck or not, I don't care. I just want the love back.