As I embarked on a journey down a winding road, I found myself engulfed in a world of towering cypress trees that loomed over me on either side. The chilly winter breeze wafted through my hair, carrying with it the scent of freshly grown cornfields. Suddenly, my mind was filled with the words of my mother, which reverberated within me like an echo: "All the realities were once fantasies."
I couldn't help but be swept away by the enormity and truth of her statement. It dawned on me that we often find ourselves lost in reverie, yearning for a life beyond our grasp, while overlooking the precious gifts that are already within our reach. It's easy to forget that the life we live and the things we possess were once mere dreams, unattainable for someone else.
As I made my way to Toronto, Canada, to visit my elder brother, who lived a solitary life, I couldn't help but ponder the notion that sometimes, we must step out of our comfort zones and confront the reality of our lives, even if it means leaving behind the familiarity of our homes.
The day before, I reached into the depths of my pocket and pulled out my trusty cellphone. With a deep breath, I dialed Carl's number and informed him of my big news: I had accepted a job in Toronto and would be moving there soon.
As I spoke, I could hear the faint hum of his busy office in the background. But his voice was occupied with disbelief when he heard my words. After all, our family was known for their success in the business world. To hear that I had landed a teaching job in an elementary school was a shocking deviation from the norm.
Despite his surprise, I didn't give Carl the chance to argue with me. I quickly informed him that I would be staying with him in his apartment until I could find a place of my own. Luckily, he was more than happy to have me as his house guest. After all, we were siblings and he loved me dearly.
As I hung up the phone, a sense of excitement and uncertainty washed over me. But one thing was for sure - I was ready for this new chapter in my life, even if it meant stepping outside of my family's comfort zone.
As the song "I don't need Nobody to love" played on my car's tape, memories of my teenage years flooded my mind. I reminisced about the scorching summer days when my peers were frolicking in the streets, but I spent hours daydreaming about the guy I would fall in love with, my first kiss, and my first sexual encounter. My taste in literature was heavily influenced by romance, and it was my favorite genre.
As time passed, I had a plethora of experiences with love and relationships, both immature and mature, that significantly impacted my personality and altered my preferences. My mother was apprehensive about my relationships and didn't want me to experience the emotional pain and anguish that often followed those types of decisions.
However, I was a free spirit who craved adventure and relished living life to the fullest. I yearned to be like a bird, free to choose my path, not controlled by anyone, including my parents. Despite my mother's sage advice, I refused to heed it, preferring to fly solo and take risks.
The recollection of my past decisions filled me with regret and shame, as I realized the foolishness that governed my actions. Looking back, I couldn't help but wonder if everyone goes through a similar phase in their lives, where they make decisions that later seem to make no sense and cause trouble that they couldn't even imagine.
I vividly remember the day I decided to leave my house to be in a live-in relationship with my newly formed boyfriend. Despite my mother's warnings and my father's disapproval, I was stubborn and refused to budge. I remember the pain in my dad's eyes as he warned me that my boyfriend would not be able to provide the luxuries that I was accustomed to. But I was determined and had made up my mind.
As I walked out of my house, I realized that the walls were adorned with tapestries that spoke tales of my childhood, of the period of my life I had spent there. But I was too blinded by my desire for adventure and change to care for it. With my trolley bag in hand, I slammed the door behind me and headed towards the waiting taxi. Dillon, my boyfriend, sat in the driver's seat, waving his hand at me with a sympathetic smile on his face, as if saying, "You want adventure? Come to me, and I'll make it disastrous for you."
As I sat in the car with a blindfold on my eyes, I realized that my father was right about Dillon. He didn't have the same level of wealth that my family did. My dad was the biggest businessman in town, and he owned the most wealth. The palace he had built for us had all the luxuries one could even imagine, and growing up, I never had to ask for anything. If I mentioned that I wanted something, my dad would bring it to me before I could even ask for it. I remember once telling our maid that I wanted a small kitchen like the one we had for my doll, and my dad literally imported a luxurious playhouse kitchen for me and my doll. He was crazy, yes, but he was also possessive, caring, and the best dad one could ever wish for.
I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and had become badly accustomed to relishing those luxuries. I had given them all up for the sake of a boy, knowing that he was just an ordinary waiter at the most expensive ice cream parlor in town and couldn't even provide me with three meals a day. Looking back, I realized how foolish and immature my decision was.