"Mira? Miraya? Can you hear me?" my mom's soft cries call out from the phone.
"Hi mom ... m... mom it's a video call, you have to turn the camera towards you," I quickly explain, glancing at my mom's ear that stares back at me through the screen. It only takes her three tries and a hate speech against our electronic world until we are finally met face to face.
"Is it working now? Can you see me?"
I nod, giving her a reassuring smile.
"Miraya, how are you? Why don't you ever call us? I can't sleep at night thinking about how you're all alone. Your dad is getting mad at me, he thinks my worrisome would somehow bother you. Says you're too busy." her words, although sprinkled with annoyance are coated with genuine concern that fills the room.
Moving out of my parent's home is one thing, but moving to another country ... alone ... is something completely different. I used to say the world is my oyster all the time, but now that I've tasted that stupid oyster, I feel ashamed of my poor judgment. I would rather walk across a field of legos barefoot than go through another immigration process on my own.
See, a year ago, I would have only dreamed of living in Korea. Learning about the culture and exploring their diverse cuisine. It was all fun and games until hope turned into manifestation, which then transformed into a deep-rooted determination. I've spent all three years of high school, working my ass off, perfecting my GPA to appeal to the board of education. I guess it all paid off in the end, since fast forward to a year later, and I am now living in my one-room dorm at one of the most prestigious universities in Korea.
"I'm sorry Mom, I truly am. I keep meaning to, but honestly, there's just not enough time in the day." I try to convince both of us.
To be honest, it has been about 2 months since I arrived, but with each passing day, I feel more and more lost. This whole time I've been consumed with academics, relying on nothing but my humongous brain to pull through with this mission. But, now I realise that in terms of just living, functioning as one singularity in the real world, I am hopeless. An absolute noob of a human being. I've grown too comfortable living under my parent's wings. Always enclosed in a bubble of security and protection, which I'm eternally grateful for if it wasn't for the fact that I'd become a complete menace to my older self.
Nonetheless, I'm here, somehow managed to overcome the post-immigration depression, even though the state of my dorm would like to argue otherwise. This is partially why I tend not to call home as often as I wish to or should. I never want my parents to see the behind-the-scenes of my "success", they at least deserve to live in peace knowing that their daughter who is 8600 km away is managing everything just fine.
"Miraya, please honey, don't make me call you out of worry. I want us to talk daily just because. I miss you so much, it feels like half of my heart left with you." my mom's voice breaks with each word, as her eyes fill with tears.
"Sorry Mommy, I promise I will call every day from now on. I miss you guys as well, it's insane to think that I won't be able to see you guys for Thanksgiving." I try to maintain my composure by changing the topic before nibbling on my lips to calm the nerves.
I'm the oldest daughter out of three kids but my parents have always treated me like their little princess. This means that without fail, I have always taken that to my advantage. And, no you can't talk to customer service about your complaints regarding moi because this main character energy has been deep-rooted in me since my diaper days. So, please, respectfully, keep it to yourself.
Anywho, back to the point. Although my two brothers still live at home, my departure has left a big mark on our family dynamic. My mom has been worried sick for the past 2 months while the men of the family try to calm down her nerves. My brothers are beginning to feel a bit offended as they feel like my mom is neglecting their presence but in reality, she just isn't used to this distance, especially away from her blood. My dad is no better, he may look all tough and composed but for the first week following my departure, he cried himself to sleep while holding on to my childhood plushie.
YOU ARE READING
Peaches & Cream
FanfictionYou're his Peaches and he is your Pretty boy. It's all very simple until the fear of commitment kicks in. How does one maintain a safe distance when it's Jungkook? The gestures might be sweet and naive but the heat between us is almost suffocating.
