In the Silence of the Night

I like writing in the silence of the night; it makes my thoughts ring like music and my visions like art.

Tonight, I realized many things.

But above all,

I realized that I am what my parents secretly wished they were, but never will be. I have what they never could have.

I am their imagination, their bravery, and their vision, recklessness, their voice, and their casual air of disregard.

I am their optimism, their hope for the good, their courage to understand and embrace, their sense of wonder, their "valley-girlness", and their ability to appreciate the small things in life.

I am their generosity, their adventures, their romanticism, … and, hell, even the sense of humor they don't have.

It's as if they have taken all those things that they aren't and couldn't be, mixed them up, and pushed and pushed … and pushed them out

into me.

Epilogue:

I just had lunch with my parents today. I hadn't seen them for 2 months. Well, as you know, my parents and I aren't exactly close. I do try to understand them, but sometimes, conflict of interest do stand in the way. Not only that, but also some fundamental differences. But I love and respect them anyway.

Sometimes, I think that my parents live with logic, doubt, cynicism and fear. They are products of their time, their environments, and their personalities. What fears they have are very relevant to their lives and lifestyle, while those fears may be entirely unfounded in mine. As parents, they tried and still try zealously to transfer those fears to me. It is so that I would not make the mistakes that will lead me right into what they fear to be the end. They seek to protect me, to make me safe, but at the expense of my taking chances, letting go, trusting and having faith in people and life … and love. The choices are to live a safe life or a colorful one. My choice is obvious, for here I am, writing this to you.

And life goes on. I continue to be fearful at times, but I am trying not to. Many of the fears I have are indeed from experience – bad things do happen sometimes, even more often than preferred. However, though I have lived most of my life with insecurities, one thing that nobody – not even my parents – could relinquish is hope. I still hope for better days that I will come out winning in this battle with doubt and fears. I still hope that trust and faith and love will prevail in my life. I still hope that one day my parents will start to understand our differences and that their fears are not mine.

I read somewhere that maybe mistakes are what make our fate, that if we did not veer off course, we would not fall in love, have babies, or be who we are.

If that is so, then I think I'm ready to make a mistake right about now.