Sometimes it's hard to live with people, because most of the hurting comes from the ones you devotedly love.
My name is Rilan and this is my becoming I'm about to tell you.
Everyday I woke up to the most wonderful family with food on my table and a roof over my head. I was always grateful, I still am. I had amazing friends and a lover I cherished.
It's a beautiful plot line so far if you are wondering. So what is this becoming I'm talking about?
Most times we do not see the entire picture because what we see in the centre is always so beautiful. We ignore the edges, yet the edges are also a part of the whole. A story doesn't always have to be filled with toxicity. Some of us like me and someone out there live lives that consist of constant pulling from each sides. It's the good and the compromise that leads us to making a choice. A lot of people do not realise this but that is also tiring. It is not about being ungrateful but rather about peace you don't have while you bring peace to other people you love.
"Rilan, I suggest you don't study anymore after you graduate. You're someone with poor health and it's better if you just find a job and settle down, " Mama would say.
"I get you are sick and all but why don't you just shut up complaining for once and just stay in bed instead?" Nord, my brother would say.
"Just live life and be carefree," Papa would say everytime I wanted to talk about what I feel.
Every night I would go to sleep a little stressed, maybe wanting to cry but still, thinking I was such an overly emotional person who did not understand their point of view.
"Stop being such a depressing sad little ball," Emilia, my best friend, would text me.
The rest of my friends would follow their messages in the same manner. It's not that they did not care. I understood that as twenty three year old adults, everyone had their own problems going on. Well, what made me feel like crying again was how I was there for each of them brushing aside all my issues like I did not even have them.
I am not saying that I was a good person or a friend, I had my flaws. At times I would think I was a person who complained a lot about everything and everybody. However, when I faced the person in front of the mirror, I knew I had a lot of things hidden inside me.
Everytime it would struck to me,
"I try to help people find their savings but when will my turn be here? "
My lover and I would talk at least once a day and I would tell every single detail then. There was no problem, except that my lover wasn't much of a talker. This person would support me and listen to me but that was it. I also understood that loving someone meant accepting them for who they are. Yet I wanted my lover to try.
For days and weeks and months to years, I have thought I was selfish and I only saw my view. So I climbed up all of their mountains. It wasn't easy, most of the time I would slip and fall or get too tired. I also complained and cried a lot but when I reached each peak, I only saw one thing in all of them.
It wasn't my view.
The time I stood on the last one I realised all I felt throughout was pain and hurting for something I did not want. I kept eating up all this food my soul never craved, I drank water from the ocean just because I thought I was thirsty and I inhaled the gas that I thought of as air. Each mountain broke and broke me. Suddenly one day I was sitting below my own and I looked up.
The places I went before exhausted me, mostly it terrified me. Yet all I had in mind was I had to do this one last time.
For if nobody chooses me and which they should not, the one person who should, should be me. I owed it to myself. It would hurt much more than all the climbing before, I knew that. But it was mine to conquer. If there was any mountain that I could move, it was mine. All those excuses about when my turn would come had to go. I had to pick my own turn.
This was never about choosing people last or leaving them behind. Nor was it about their faults or not loving them. It was definitely not about hurting them, for the people who truly love you would never be hurt over something you choose for yourself that makes you happy. You see, our lives are an irony because we can run the extra mile for those we care about but when we have to do it for ourselves, we forget it. We hardly ever give us the same love, the same respect, the same privilege we do deserve. My story may be different from yours, but I do believe in the feeling that most of us have similar patterns.
Maybe my story would never win awards or prizes. Maybe not even a lot of people would ever read it but "I" Is just not me, "I" is also a factor for you. So, for the one fraction of people who may read it, I hope that even a single soul can find the voice you have been wanting to hear. I pray that this story be the voice for the voiceless. That it gives you the courage to be brave for yourself.
People you love are going to hurt you anyways and as much as you love them, you have to stop the hurt sometimes and let yourself go. It is always okay to be a little selfish. It was and is always okay to cry for yourself, to hurt for yourself. After all, "I" am also important.