Feel again.

 We’ve got five weeks off from work for the winter, and we’re traveling with Angel’s family at the moment in the City of Sakura. It’s nice to fly again after 3.5 years.

Child rearing has been tough. A lot of things have happened since I last wrote. I can barely breathe. In the past six months, we moved, took Little O to 3 different kindergartners and now it’s somewhat settled. Little O’s behavior is getting more and more difficult and I’m under tremendous stress because we just bought this house and we can’t just move away again to find Little O a better environment. I am drained inside out. I’ve been binge watching romance dramas during the break and I’m finally hearing some voices inside of me.

Who was my first love? I don’t know. A crush didn’t count. Mutual crush didn’t count. It was always Jes who came to my mind, but we’ve never met. He was the first person who I could open up to and I could feel that he could feel my pain, even though he didn’t say so verbally. With all the other men I dated, I opened up to all of them but I never felt that kind of empathy from any one of them, including Angel. They could listen, but they couldn’t feel. It made me feel that that was it; the problem is mine and every man is that way. Just choose one who won’t hurt you.

Then, the one who won’t hurt me is someone who can’t feel me, someone who loves himself more than anyone else, someone who talks a lot and monologues a lot. I want to feel love again. I want to feel that someone cares about me again. I have been giving my whole self to everyone in this family that I have nothing left. I often wonder, if I had the courage to run to Jes when I was 20, to fall in love in person with him, to live a simple life with him and never got any of those fancy degrees, would I be happy right now? Would our kids be healthier than my kids now?

But fate never let us be together. We were living so close to each other for two years but couldn’t find each other. By the time we found each other, he was already engaged after giving up on looking for me. Maybe it wasn’t real after all because we’ve never met in person. Maybe we felt connected because we couldn’t see each other, and it was all filled with fantasy. Is he a good father now? Are his kids dependent on him the way mine are on me? Does he make his wife happy?

I feel like a failure. I gave up on my previous career to pursue a family. Now I’m stuck in my current job that pays well but drills my body and mind. I finally have my own children but they have so many problems that are unacceptable in this society. I don’t know how to teach them to camouflage except that I try to hide them from most people. My husband poops three times a day and pees ten times a day; he spends most of his time in the bathroom, eating, phubbing, or sleeping. Jes, do you do that?

I try really hard not to think, not to cry, and not to feel. Now I’ve realized I’ve been so pathetic. I am so fat and ugly and old now. I’m not healthy. I’m not happy. No one would take a look at me. I don’t wear clothes I want to wear anymore; I can only wear comfy baggy clothes with animal prints that Little O chooses for me. I don’t get to sleep through one single night without disturbances. I have no one I can talk to. My younger brother has acquired his immigration status so he’s moved thousands of miles away. I am all alone. 

Dear X, can you hear me? Can you read my writing? Are you there? If you are there, can you let me feel you? Can you hold me? Can you tell me you love me and that you’ll take care of me?