Dear Papang

...

I sit here, carelessly letting my fingers dance on the keyboard and I wonder how I will face you. I fear to see the disappointment which I have waged war with for 29 years. I like to imagine that I can confidently walk through the door with my head held high. Maybe I can but we both know it will all be pretense. We both know I lost. I was not strong enough to stand up for what I built in this newly-labeled hellhole and have, similar to the hundred other previous instances, ran away like the coward that I am. I wish I can say that although he left me for another woman, I do not really give a rat's ass about it. I wish I can say that I can still continue climbing the corporate ladder. I wish I can say that I will not be selling the house that I have grown to love after all. I wish I can say all these. The truth is, I cannot. I cannot because, despite my claim to being the most undaunted in the family, I fell into pieces when he left me. I cannot because it hurts too much to stay in the same place where I will possibly witness his new-found happiness. I cannot because I may be too illogical to be trusted with my own judgement.

In time, you will have your rebel-daughter back. For now, let me weep for lost things. Allow me to feed on my anger and momentarily wallow in self-pity; not because I am required to but because I am entitled to it just like everyone else is. Cradle me and let me lean on your beer-filled belly, God knows how much comfort I need. Just let me mourn for that fading belief called 'forever.' Let's talk about happy topics like China, Scotland and putting up my own business someday. Let me hear you say "I have your back" and how you will always be there for me. I will tire of this drama one day but while that day is not yet here, I beg you to understand because I need this.

See you soon.