Disillusioned

My heart is aching, my head is pounding from the heat of this fever, this recurring cough and flu seems to have gotten my water pipes faulty. Can't say I didn't see this coming because I actually did foresee it quite a couple of times for the past 19 years of my life, with some heartfelt tip-off from my mum over a few of our rare breakfast/ lunch out as well. But still, was I wrong to have assumed that even with a love that was fading by the day, a parents' commitment is strong enough to hold a family together? It's not even a huge family, it's just a father, a mother, and their only daughter.

I feel like I have been delusional this whole time, that this family has actually long been broken, and my eyes, heart and mind were just shielded by this perfect little bubble of mine called "hallucination". And at long last, my parents with their individual index fingers, decided to come pop this bubble and wake me up from my dream for me.

I've had countless of quarrels and shout-offs with my parents, more of which with my dad because I definitely got my stubborn ass genes from him. Sometimes, it's like a tiger locked in a same cage as a lion. Still, it is natural for a child to have disagreements and tiffs with their parents. And at the end of the day, I still love my parents the most. Deep down I feel, maybe I actually love my dad a bit more than my mum.

Since my birth he has not only been a fatherly figure to me but also a music teacher, an all-rounded sports coach, a comedian, a friend and sometimes, he acted as what I've secretly always wanted the most, a sibling figure. I was such a tomboy up till my secondary school days, I sometimes felt I played the role of a son as well. And he may not look like it and may seem so fit and all that even already past the retirement age of which he is now 62 years old, he can still safely and steadily cycle to JB and back in one piece, furthermore in one day. But underneath this toned, tanned and young looking exterior, is a 62 years old heart, and my 19 years old one aches for him.

What I have for my father is not savings that can let him have a peaceful and easy retirement life, and it's also definitely not the brains that can ensure me a spot in any university in order to earn big bucks in future to take good care of him. But what I have for him is a heart that cannot bear to imagine, let alone know and see an old man barely living by the day on his diminishing savings and his not even fit to be considered "humane" monthly CPF allowance from the government after retirement, in a dark little house completely not befitting of the old man whom I know of. And yet, this "old man" were to be my father, my childhood superhero figure.

I imagine he'd still continue his cycling hobby, he'd still have fun being the leader of his pack with the natural funny bone in him and people would still enjoy his presence without noticing any difference, but at the end of the day when he has to unlock the door to a small house with no one and nothing but singular furnitures, can he still hold up his strong exterior and people's smile? Can he sleep well in a cold, single bed when for the past 20-30 years he has been sleeping in a king-sized bed that was always warm to his return thanks to the bodily warmth of my mum who always believed in sleeping early? I cannot let this be how he spends his remaining years.

Yet, I can't be selfish with my mum and ask her to continue holding on to what's emotionally tying her down. Commitment is not love. Commitment is a tie-in with love. They are one but not the same. They hold a relationship and a vow together. Without love, commitment slowly changes by the day to "burden".