Passing years scare me. And with good reason. I have never been a fan of growing up. I am just 22 but I can tell you I have seen most things that many never will and felt things that many people would not ever want to feel about themselves.
I am very attached to my folks back home. But back when I was 18, the naive teen in me was excited about leaving home and being all independent. I am talking about leaving for college after school. Now its 5 years since I have had a stay at home. In the last 5 years I have never had the peace of mind to stay with my mom and dad for extended periods. All my trips have always been a touch and go. Always giving me an incomplete feeling when I leave. And I cant help but think that maybe I should have stayed back and went to a college closer to home.
Because when everything is said and done, we will all see our share of misfortune and experiences with time. But the time that you get to spend with your parents is only limited.
I yearn for the Christmas when I was younger. When I was younger, the 25th morning were always insanely exciting for me. It was the morning when Santa would have left me a present on my study table. My eyes would pop open with a sudden jolt on Christmas morning and before anything would set upon the study table. And there it would be, the gleaming box of present. It was there every year for the next 5 years. Until I realized.
Let me tell you one thing, when a boy understands that Santa is not real. There is only one feeling. Pain.
If it wasn’t for my general realization of this fact, my mother would not mind placing gifts at my desk for every Christmas till I am 100. Trust me, she hated herself when my bubble burst about Santa’s existence. I think that is Love. I really do think of it as something divine.
Christmas in 2011. I wake up in my empty rented room. There is no gift. No mom with her radiant smile to make me feel all Christmas-y. There is an ash tray that needs emptying. I barely feel like getting out of bed. After all it is just one Sunday I get off from work. I check my cell – I don’t even have the balance to call her up. It hurts.
I regret where I brought my life. I regret not being with mom more. Because now its too late.