Growing Up/Old

When you're heartbroken, you get more anxious of the future. On one hand, there's a part of you that wants time to just stop, life to just end. But then there's a part of you that wills to survive the heartache albeit a sense of dread, a deep sense of fear comes with it. I guess that's what bitterness is all about. The sunny view of life you once had suddenly turns downcast. And all that's left is a bitter, brutally truthful take on life. Come to think of it, maybe Hobbes was heartbroken when he said that "life is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short."

I remember two or three years ago, I just broke up with my ex (which is really a blessing now, thank God!) and my father was about to go on forced retirement. Suddenly, there was a lot of uncertainty in my life. Transitions. I was new to heartache and there I was taking on the new role as breadwinner of the family. I distinctly remember asking my mom if I really need to step up, shape up. I felt a need to grow up and take things seriously since my family would be soon depending on me. She wasn't very straightforward with her answer but judging from her worried demeanor in the days after my father announced his plan to retire, I knew that I had to take up a lot of things on my shoulder.

Fast forward to two or three years. We're getting by and at the end of the day, the blessings still outweigh the hardships. But then, an unanswered questions still lingers in my mind: who will be with me when I grow old? As much as I want my parents to live on forever, that can never be. And my sister's got her own life to live. In fact, I'm looking forward to the day when she gets married and have kids of her own. She's got a bright future ahead of her and I would be the last person to hold her down by the thought of having to watch over me and see if I'm lonely or alone. And then there's my brother whom I know I need to take care of.

I know it's of no use to worry about an uncertain future. But then it's the age-old question that I've ranted about hundreds of times already: security. Or maybe it's just romanticism refusing to die in my heart. Damn you Adam Sandler for singing "Growing Old with You!" When these thoughts cross my mind, all the more do I want to be self-sufficient. When I grow old, it might be my fate to live with me, myself and I.

And then it strikes me, I need to brush aside that thought and put on a brave front... even if it's hard and the looming sadness of days ahead cause your hands to tremble. Hay, trembling hands. I wonder if there would be someone to hold them and keep them still when I'm old and wobbly. Will life be really solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short? I really hope not.