February 14, 2014
"Nikki! It's 4/14/14! That must be of some significance!", said my mother happily.
"Cool, mom! Oh and when we were playing spoons in wheel period, I encountered another eight of diamonds!", I replied as enthusiastically as I could try to be.
"Ooh! Nick! This must mean good luck!"
Heh. If only she had known. If only we had all known.
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So three months or so ago my mom's dad had died at about 73 or so, and yeah I was briefly upset. I know that sounds heartless, but remember, this man lives halfway around the world and doesn't even speak the same language as me. I had the right to not mourn very long.
But now at 1:08 A.M. on February 14, 2014, my 52 or so year old uncle died. He was on my mom's side of the family, like my grampa. Also, I didn't mourn for him either. This uncle of mine spoke English and Filipino. He worked hard and supported his family of about 7, including him, his wife, and the kids that had moved out and were in college. I'm pretty sure it was this brother that had skipped college to go find a job to help my mom get books for a good scholarship.
Am I monstrous for not weeping like my mother had?
Am I heartless because I feel no sorrow or grief on the subject?
Am I just a horrid creature?
All I want is to not be alone anymore. I just need someone always there for me that I can just curl up into. I have my boyfriend, but he doesn't live in town or drive.
I'm alone.
And it's never going to change.
