When I was a child every summer vacation was spent in my grandma's place. When I was 8 years old I got really sick and the doctor said it was contagious. The doctor advised me to stay home. It was summer vacation, a time when I could play all I want, when that news was like the end of the world for me. But I didn't cry. It's not my fault I got sick.
After a few days I felt better, so I ran next door to play with our neighbors' kids. I was so excited after having been stuck in my grandma's house for several days. They were riding their new bike and I got excited because I didn't have one and I've been wanting to learn. While I was waiting for my turn with the bike, the kid's mom arrived and requested me to leave. She said I can't hang around with her kids because I might make them sick. I understood her point. I just ran home and cried. Oh the bitterness of rejection. Thus, I psyched myself for rejection, that way I won't get disappointed.
After 21 years of being accepted most of the time, that same feeling of rejection hit me but I wasn't sick this time. And the deluge, that never happened before, came 21 years late. And my fortress of solitude turned out to be an overcrowded bench in the park.
I realized that when I expect, I'll eventually get disappointed. I can easily forgive but it takes a while for me to forget.
'Nuff said. 'Nuff drama.
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1 comment:
Hey Nik. I've been browsing lang. I know I read this post before, but you know what?
In the same way my own journal entries come to me in a different light years after I read them, yours, especially this one, made a different impact today.
I guess we all experience a form of rejection early in our youth...and it prepares us for the greater-impact ones that we will face later in life: work, love relationships, groups...
It doesn't lessen the pain though, does it? Sabi nga nang isang rock song: Where do I belong?"
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