"What is it?" joined by the tension of the room, and the regretful look on my mom's face, I feel something rise up in my throat, raw and hurting.
I wasn't desiring to know what it could be that put my mom in distress of telling me.
"I'm moving to Thailand for a year," she lets out in one clustered moment, a mess of words.
"What?" I yell, clenching my fists.
"Excuse me, what did you say?" I add, and she's turned to the floor, raising a finger up to shush me.
"Be quiet. Your father is in his study working on blueprints. Let me explain," she turns her head back up, and I see tears in her eyes.
Likewise, there are tears in my eyes. I was overwhelmed, and this was unexpected.
I know it could be something worse, like grandma or grandpa dying, and it was selfish and wrong of me to believe my problems laid any more impact on life than somebody else who was facing something worst, but I couldn't budge the fact that my mom, who was constantly drowned in her work when she was here, could make a move and distance herself even more.
"Why?" I'm unable to control my emotions, "you're always gone for work, on business trips, conferences, clients in a different city, heck, state," I lash out at her.
"I'm sorry," is all she says, pulling me into a hug. "But you have to understand," she pleads.
"What exactly do you want me to understand here?" I want to yell out of anger, but I'm controlling my volume to be mindful of my dad.
Especially when I had felt him try harder to keep in touch with me.
She's hesitant to speak for herself, and I add,
"Wait, does he know about this? Does dad know you're leaving?" I lower my volume further, when it dawned on me that he might be unaware of it himself.
"Your dad already knows, but he's not here, as we're giving each other some space. I just broke the news yesterday night," she sighs.
"Hence why he's locked away in his study," I nod, closing my eyes and allowing a stream of tears to continue falling down my face.
The past few days have been so perfect, and the minute I step back into the real world, that image was crushed.
"I can't live with myself, after choosing to represent some of the clients I did--" she breaks apart from our hug and plops down on the couch in one fell swoop.
"Especially when I knowingly did it for the money. That's what makes it worse," she holds herself back.
"I knew it was wrong. I broke my own promise to never let my morals delve into corruption."
"Then why can't you let your self-healing be done here? With us? Family?" I take the seat next to her on the couch, and our tears end, as we collect ourselves to have a collected conversation, rubbing my eyes.
"I'm afraid this is the only way I can live with myself, give back. I've lost touch with my old self and my childhood. I want to reconnect with the place I come from, my origin."
"Aren't you supposed to emotionally separate yourself from your work?" I add, my eyes still puffy, but I'm laughing.
"Wait, why do you care so much whether or not you're taking on clients you know you shouldn't be working with?" I add, laughing hysterically.
It's my process. I'm unable to come to terms with this revelation.
"To an extent, yes," my mom takes me seriously, for a reason I'm not sure of, and while I felt inclined to add all of the comments swirling through my mind, hoping that it would encourage her to stay, my mom's determination persisted.
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sehnsucht ✓
Teen Fiction"longing, pining, yearning, craving" Simple. Amber kept a list of her crushes as new ones flied by the week. She has a type, and the latest target of her affections could not be more far off from the standard she had built. The presence of this afor...
