What I Fear About Life

"Ma," I called.

My voice, a whisper in the wind.

"I remember dreaming of becoming a lawyer.

Yet I studied Film.

It was fun though.

Then I got to work in a good company,

with good people and good pay.

But I was no longer happy.

Which was why I quit.

I wished to leave to the big city,

write stories, film people.

But I had to delay working on my dream.

As I had to do something worthwhile,

earn experience,

help the community,

reach out to people.

But you were unhappy.

I kept hearing you talk about money issues,

things you wished we have.

The burden was heavy.

It made me feel incompetent,

pressured,

impatient.

I had nowhere to go.

I was lost.

Inner demons started eating me up.

I wanted to fight them.

But there was no strength left in me.

I already spent all of it worrying about the future."

"Pa," I called.

My voice drowned by the howling storm.

"I'm sorry for not being the daughter you wanted me to be.

I am sorry for the disappointment,

for the wrong decisions,

for the unfulfilled dreams.

I apologize for being indecisive,

for being foolish

for being selfish."

You probably wouldn't hear these though.

"God," I called.

My voice, loud and clear.

"Please let them hear.

At least before I go to your place

or down there.

I pray they hear

and forgive me

for leaving them this early.

That it was all because I was weak,

and scared,

and blinded by the beauty of death."