Saturday, January 22

Rebuffed

Rebuffed




In my family, I am the mediator. I serve as the request hotline, guidance counselor, tie-breaker and most of the times, peacemaker. However, when it is my turn to ask for help or reassurance, I can't seem to find anyone who could do the job.

I would then just brush it off, show them that I'm alright and then, head straight to the bathroom to shed a few tears.

Just a few days ago, something about school finally made me happy. A poem I wrote, Citrus Tears was picked among five other model poems in our class to be anonymously "studied."

My classmates said the poem carried vivid imagery and was quite a paradox in itself, which is what gave it an edge. I didn't expect that it had such a powerful and emotional core, as one of my classmates pointed out. And I didn't think that it brought so much memories into it. On the whole, I was pleasantly surprised.

After my teacher revealed the author of the poem at the end of the class, I received a round of applause. I never was and never will be the type to excel in Math or in Science, which is why that really made me feel good about myself. It made me feel that I could be great at something.

But that was the end of it.

That night, I half-bragged, half-told my family about it and my mom, in her usual attempt to annoy me, replied, "Yun lang? (That's it?)" and stuck her nose in the air. I know that she was not at all serious when she said it, but I know that deep inside her, she meant what she said.

Dinner suddenly felt cold and tasteless inside my mouth.

I'm just so sad and disappointed because I was really expecting much, much more than that.


PS: If clicking on the link of the poem doesn't work, it's because Diaryland is moving servers. You can check it out another day though.

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Header image by Flóra @ Flickr