It has been that long

Haven’t had a dream in a long time
See, the life Ive had
Can make a good man bad

- The Smiths’ “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want” OST 500 Days of Summer

I seriously think that at a certain point in life, a person should move out from staying with his/ her parents.

It is not so much that we crave for our own freedom, or that we want the luxury of walking around naked in our own home. I think, to me, it is more of the fact that people evolve. We may not change entirely, but we evolve; fueled by our own experiences, our advancing outlook on life, and how, simply put, we have different priorities or even differing opinions from them. And unfortunately, these opinions/ priorities/ needs may not jive seamlessly with theirs.

When we were children, most of our decisions were made with them in the background. As we grow to become young adults, tip –toeing into the working world, we still take their opinions into account, because we know they know best and can give us valuable advices.

I shouldn’t be stereotyping here: I am talking about me. What is this nonsense of referring me as “we” *sheesh*

So, as I near the big 3-0, I find that as much as my decisions still includes them into the picture, I also tend to struggle at making decisions that would make me, ultimately, happy. It doesn’t really help that one parental unit, is kinda a control freak, and still hasn’t lepaskan her leash completely just yet.

The other day, I made a decision, on a whim, which is supposed to make me happy. No one else but me. And it doesn’t involve decapitating anyone’s limbs, so I’m pretty sure, it causes no harm to the world at large.

But back home, a Cold War ensues.

*sigh*

I know I sound like I’m blaming those people I live with, but I’m tired of thinking too much sometimes. I just want to LIVE.

Salah ke?

I know I once wrote about filial piety and stuff. But screw that. I want to be selfish today.

You were not there when I went through one of the darkest moments of my life. You didn’t know what it takes for me to pull myself out, and how many nights my pillowcase got soaked with tears. To you, my life is all fine and dandy, careless even, with naught a thought about how you feel towards my current existence. This is something I NEED to do. This is something that, if not much, would help me get on with my life.

I am not YOU. I am not as strong as you. I need what I need to get on.

But don’t worry, I won’t abandon you.

So please, just let me be.