Habit

You are staring out your window, coffee in hand. You watch the world roll by as your apartment seems to move in slow motion. You slowly sip your coffee like you do every morning as you feel the cool spring breeze brush against your face. The sweet sound of cars zooms by the window as you watch the people go by, you don’t see anything in it other than a bleak moment of distraction. 

You are always trying to distract yourself. You are unable to keep yourself entertained these days, you find yourself drifting off instead. You try and find something, but you can’t help but feel unmotivated. 

You start to wonder what it would be like to be one of the people walking by on the street. You wonder how they entertain themselves, how they get motivated, how they stay productive. You start to wonder what those people are like and if you would like them. 

Your train of thought is broken when your phone starts ringing. You walk over to the edge of the counter greeting the familiar name Mom on the screen of your phone. She calls you every day, you rarely answer. Today is easier than normal to ignore her. It has become easier to ignore her as the days go by. You watch as the caller ID vanishes. You feel no regret or happiness, you start to adapt.

You walk back to the window, slowly drifting into a melancholic state. You watch the miniature people walk by underneath you. The slow drift of the population trickles past the building. Some with coffees, others with heels, some with a group, some by themselves. You drift off watching the world go by. 

The day goes by like any other. You go to work at the publishing office. You work from nine to five like any other person. You go home, watch Netflix, go through more books, and fall asleep.  

You wake up the next day. Make your coffee, look out your window, and ignore your mother’s call. You watch the people go by, you go to work, you come back home and you fall asleep. You do this every morning. 

This morning, you wake up. You have made your coffee and are staring out the window. You wait for your call from your mother, maybe you will answer it today. Maybe you will be able to tell her something interesting, maybe you will make her proud. You wait, but today it doesn’t come. You don’t think much of it, so you go about your day. 

The next morning you watch the people go about their lives. You wait for your mother to call, but she never does. The following morning you wait, but it doesn’t come. The same happens the next morning, the following morning, and the one after that. Before you know it, it has become weeks since she has called. You start to adapt, you don’t care as much as you thought you would, you can’t seem to care.

Weeks go by. You now have no connection to your past life, you live in the present. You don’t think about the past or the future. 

May rolls by and June approaches. You decide you are going to Europe to explore. You think a change in scenery should do you good. You have been stuck in one place for ages, you want an escape. 

It is late at night when your phone rings. You look at the screen as it illuminates the room. You feel your stomach drop when you see a text from your mom. You freeze, you are afraid something horrible has happened. You pray that everything is alright. Your hands shake as you open the message.

Hey sweetie,

We miss you, it has been so long since your father and I have gotten to see you. Please come home. We are having a party for fathers day. We hope to see you there. We always love you. Please come home.

You reread the message several times. You didn’t realize how much you missed your family. You only moved out a year ago, how did everything fall apart so quickly? How could you just ignore your family? How could you not care? 

You start to remember the slip-n-slides at grandmas house. You remember the day your sister was born. You remember your first day of school lunch and the two friends that stayed with you from elementary school. You remember the day you first left the house overnight. You remember the time you smoked in high school and thankfully never got caught. You remember your first kiss. You remember your first heartbreak. You remember leaving for the weekend with your friends. You remember graduating. You remember college. You remember leaving.

You remember the first story that was told about you. You remember seeing the picture of you sitting on the porch talking it up to your grandpa as a baby. You remember cringing at the idea of only wearing a diaper at that moment. You remember the oxytocin that raced through your veins as your family kept reciting the story. You remember watching your family surround you. You remember feeling loved. 

You remember the family barbecues. You remember the scent of cheap beer and hamburgers filling the house. You remember petting the dog. You remember your mouth watering as the cake comes out of the kitchen. You remember the longing to sit at the grown-up table. You remember the laughter that filled the dining room and the faint barking from outside. You remember dozing off on the car ride home and wishing to be carried in. You remember the simple times when grandparents were just loving and parents were always happy. You remember the whole family being together with no fighting. You remember the warm embrace from loving relatives. 

You remember the little things. You remember driving to every 7/11 for free Slurpees. You remember going on drives in your pajamas. You remember picnics in the backyard. You remember going out to dinner on payday and vacuuming the kitchen. You remember calling Speghettios “skettios.” You remember eating your sister’s baby food. You remember the first time you came home crying, hurt, and happy. You remember the feeling of home.

You remember leaving. The feeling of accomplishment overrode the feeling of pain. You remember seeing the broken faces on your family. You remember trying to ignore the silent tears staining your mom’s face. You remember promising not to cry and keeping by that promise. You remember driving off and not looking back for a final goodbye. You remember that was the last time you saw your parents. 

You feel warm tears escape your eyes. You feel them travel down your face as you remember what it felt like to alive. You feel yourself fall. You start to sob. Your face becomes hot as your stomach tightens. You haven’t sobbed like this since you were a kid. You haven’t allowed yourself to feel. You lie there for hours reminiscing on old times until you drift off in a peaceful slumber.

In the morning, you wake up to sunlight. You look around at your apartment. There are no pictures of friends or family. You slowly turn your head to see the reality of a melancholic life. 

You slowly pick yourself up. Your face is stained red and you eyes puffier than ever. You walk into your room, packing a new bag. You quickly change into something new. You feel fresh, clean, content. 

You call your mom for the first time since you moved out, it is a festival of tears and joy. You have finally grown up. You look around your apartment one last time. You have cleared off space for pictures. You have gotten rid of anything superficial. You have found yourself. 

You look down at the father’s day card, there are too many mistakes that this will not fix, but you are willing to try on your own. You pack your bags and with your suitcase in hand, you head to the station.