Rock Songs & Heartbreaks

For a distorted moment, I thought about how big this world is and how small I am. There was a shift in my feelings and something felt misaligned. I remember feeling this way before.

I never had a lot of freedom growing up. There were fake security cameras set up, baby powder on the floor to track foot prints, and paper shut into the door (if it falls that means I opened it) to ensure I followed the rules. My mom had to leave when I was in my junior year of high school because my Grandpa got cancer. I was left with my dad who was neurologically twisted. He worked late nights at time and that’s when I would rebel.

I rebel by finding love of my own. The love that I thought would whisk me away and save me. I remember the nights I would sneak him in and we’d be in our own world. There was one night where my dad wanted to check on me but I had locked my doors. I always locked my doors after everything that’s happened to me. I knew he wouldn’t have fought me on it because he was one of the reasons why I would lock my doors.

But hearing that door knob jiggle not once but thrice, lets just say we held our breathe.

The memories flash through me like a music video. It could have been the play pretend of being a family or just the innocence of the dreams. Even though we were just eating instant noodle, drinking ramune, and being confined in a home, it was a bliss that I will always treasure.

But just like every sad song, the opening starts with the blissful memories and slowly fade to the sadness. It plays the memory of when I was packing to leave. I was to move far away and leave everything behind. No one grabbed my hands and told me to run. I was just like every other teenager who was forced to do what they were told. Except for the two memory that I hold near and dear. The last time he was there and I felt like the biggest part of me was lost. The time when I find myself kneeling in front of my mom and begging to no avail.

I always wonder what the hold on me is for these memories. I think at that time, I was at the peak of all the chaos. The amount of tears, the feeling of loss, it was all so overwhelming. If I really try, my body can physically feel that pain.

As we grow older, the significance of the situations diminish. For example, if I was to reason with the situation now - I could understand why my mom felt it was best for me to leave and be with her. But it doesn’t remove the pain that was felt. And that’s okay. I can honor that pain and still understand why it had to happen.