Lib(er)ation at a price :.

November 22, 2007

The father gave me a look of pure disappointment as I walked in at the not-so-ungodly hour of 8.15pm. I pretend I don’t care, but I really do. It’s just the daughter in me, wanting not to disappoint and play it dutiful. But that’s not really me, so I brushed off the guilt and ran upstairs to continue the ‘party of one.’

Despite my best smile, and the thought of the party tomorrow, I can’t help but sit and cry and miss my Gray Eyes. He’s working hard during Thanksgiving. I know it’s for me. I wish that I would wake up one of these days and not be alone, that I’d wake up hearing his soft breath by my ear, and feeling the fuzzyness of his beard caressing my face. Even though I hate winter with a vengance, I want to wake up to a cold New York morning with Gray Eyes, and go out with him grab H&H bagels, and walk leisurely in the freezing cold snuggled in his arms.

Then I think about everything I would have to sacrifice to be with him. My family, friends, and perhaps the country of my birth which I long to raise my children in. Though nothing prepares me for that.. I don’t think I could live a life of loneliness.  I would sacrifice it all in the name of love. Not just love though.. I’d sacrifice it all, just to live a life so free.

And as the days go by, and I get closer to that date I so long for. Much fear, anticipation, hope and courage fill my heart. I’m like a soldier readying for war, you can prepare all you like, but nothing could ever really prepare you for the true horrors about to be faced.

When that date comes, I’ll know if I cease to be a daughter. And no matter how the decision goes, I’ll have to live with it.

All in the name of living a life you want to lead, and not the life chosen for you.

I’m not selfish. I just want to be me.


One comment

  1. If you didn’t try the Barker, how’s about some (Paulo) Coelho? The Witch of Portobello. I think it will both inspire and make you cry. It’s honestly almost all of your issues wrapped up with a bow (not a pretty bow, but a bow, maybe in twine). 🙂

    (I’m certainly not trivializing them, just an observation from an onlooker, it was the first book that came to mind after reading the above)

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