The Boiling Point 2

Since that time I lived on my own. Got busy with my own activities, came home just to take a shower and sleep, most of my time I spent outside of my house. I rarely talk to my mom, just saw her in morning and sometimes I came home when she was about to sleep.

Life is not easy for me even till now. Well my mom has changed a lot. But it doesn’t make her do things right. We become closer than before but still brought me down sometimes.

I was really wanted to get out from my house back then. When I was high school I heard a scholarship to go to another country. Well from a thousand students who applied to that program I was one of  7 students who got accepted. It was everyone’s dream to get accepted but my mom was the only one who tells me to walk out and refuse that program. I was mad and sad, when every parents in this country want their kids to get accepted, it didn’t work that way to my mom. But it was crystal clear that I want to go abroad and I did.

It wasn’t the only one.

When I was in the USA mom and me never argue, fight or whatever on something. But when I was home, I thought she had changed but she hadn’t. Just a few days after she argued and ended up with me being upset.

When everyone came back home and had to redo his or her senior year, I wasn’t. I got accepted to study in college somewhere in Jakarta. Everyday she blame me on that, blame on the expensive payment, blame on everything. All I need was support to survive, but again I have to stand on my own thought supporting myself.

One of my senior was move to Australia and finish his college their. He asked me to join and I’m pretty sure I can study their, I can be the best student, I can work and everything. He helped me with all the registration. I asked my mom and she told my aunty. What I got is my aunty told me that I’m too selfish, I never grateful for what I have, I’m too dream big and blame everything is useless and only piss my mom. I AM a BIG dreamer, I am wanna be the best, what is wrong with that? When every parents force their kids to be there my mom was a heart breaker.

It happened again when I told my mom that I wanna be like Yuna Zarai. Photography and singing is biggest passion. She said straight to my heart that singing is Haram, it’s useless, it’s nothing and photography is just for rich people.

Those situations made me strong sometimes but it also brought me down, break my heart and give up. I have all the best friend, people, teacher, senior in the world that always supporting me, believe me and compliment me on everything. But it’s all nothing when the only person I want to make proud is the one and only parent left in my world. Even a thousand people supported me it just need my mom’s disagreement to throw me down from 50 floors skyscraper.

People always proud of me, said things like I can handle every difficulties in this world. Well I didn’t. I make it easy because I found it so difficult at the first time. That’s the only way to survive. My lecture said the only thing that can solve your difficulties is to have fun with those difficulties.

I do love my mom as much as I love my father. But I just feel that she wasn’t do things right when it comes to understand me. She always wants to be heard and no matter what I do I always be the rebellion. Because all she wanted is I become a good muslimah with Islamic appearance, remember every surah of Quran and all the things that might make you live in Jannah. But I wasn’t that good. I’m human, I’m not prophet’s daughter. I did stupid mistakes a lot. But she always forces me to be that kind of person. So nothing in this world can make her proud like other parents would.

Well, I lived out of town all by myself, dealing with peoples, problems all by myself. Sometimes I only lean on my own body because I don’t know where to ask for help. It doesn’t mean my best people are useless but they can’t always have time like my father did. I can’t always lean on them, they have their own life to deal with. I need a guide I need guardian I need parents. It doesn’t mean I hate the situation of my father passed out but I was too young, too fragile and so not ready and have nothing to deal with it.

So I just torture myself to have fun with this kind of situation. Once every year I spent my day to cry and cry and just cry because I’m sick of being alone, having trouble and fix it, having no one understand my feelings, every single not fun thing I’ve been through.

Sometimes I just need someone who can easily find my weakness behind every cover of strength, smart thoughts, and every side of me.

I need someone who can easily give up everything, their time, and their life for me.

Sometimes I just need someone who can easily sit next to me and let me talk about my difficulties and let me lean on their shoulder to cry.

Sometimes I just need someone who asking what happened to me and when I said I’m okay they say that they know nothing is okay.

I need a mind reader who can feel and agree that this is not easy. Feel that I need someone to walk together in every second of my life.

Because this is just my boiling point…

The Boiling Point

I’ve been through a lot of things recently that made me upset, sad, angry, mix emotion. I feel like this is too much, I’m not supposed to face this entire problem all by myself. Well maybe this is the consequence I have to deal with when I decided to be out of my hometown, alone.

I was a little princess to my father back then. He never brought me down even once. When I had problem he solved it, I made mistake he fixed it, he always be my Hero, always thought that I’m the most wonderful daughter he ever had. I spent all of my time with him, well I suppose to be close with my mom but I didn’t.

My mom and me always argue with every single thing. Not like my father, she always want me to do whatever she said, I wasn’t really connected to her. It was April 30, 2003 In the middle of early morning, my mom was on the phone with my father. Is suddenly woke up and told her that I wanna speak with him. My mom doesn’t allow me to talk and told me to go back to sleep. I was mad at that time. No one knew that was my last chance to talk with my father. He passed out couple hours later in Jakarta.

Someone was belling my house in the early morning. It was rare because no one would do that. I got fever, my mom opened the door but not so long after that I heard noise. She came back to my room and told me to get out from my bed. It was my father’s right hands sitting in our living room, looked at me. I asked them what happened. It was my first time my mom hugged me and told me that my father passed out. I was only 10 years old and it was hard to believe it. My only Hero, the closest person who always did everything to me couldn’t be on my side anymore. I was thinking, what am I gonna do? What am I without him? Why him? Why wasn’t I am the one HE chooses?

Things got worst since then. It’s hard to spend all of my time with someone who doesn’t really connect to me. Even my mom is the one who gave a birth to me, I wasn’t that close to her and I had a not good relation with her at that time. So after he passed out, she was having her own life without letting me be on it. So did I. It was my first year of middle school and a lot of new things going on. That was the time when I really need a support, a guide or whatever it was. But she wasn’t there. I spent my whole year crying on my lost of my father every afternoon and hurting myself for being ignored by my mom. I need affection that my father always gave me every second of my life but it was gone.