While the last days haven’t been frenetic in terms of physical activities (I pretty much bum at home during breaks, reading books, watching television, and again, reading, reading), I have had some big decisions to make.
I have worked towards a particular goal and desire of mine throughout last semester. I thought I would be going too. But as it turned out, no matter how much coaxing I did, no matter how much I argued, ultimately my parents’ word remained the law. I see the logic in their arguments. Still, I could not help but feel that they do not get the reason behind my wanting to go at all. I simply want to go because of the experience. I want to go to gain a certain maturity, borne from having seen some other part of the world, from living in some other culture. I want to meet new people, get to know them, perhaps befriend them despite our differences. I wanted this to impact me in terms of deepening my perspective of the world, giving me growth, giving me confidence.
But that is not how things are destined to be, it seems.
Actually a few hours ago, as I thought to write this post as a cap off to the break and as an ode maybe to decisions made, I felt pretty light. I felt hopeful and excited for the new semester. I even sent a text already to the Office in charge of this whole thing. It felt bad, I felt bad for them. I know that they worked hard to facilitate the exchange, to help me. I admit to my mistake in all this. Perhaps I’d been so excited by the idea of getting to finally experience something of this degree, of this potential, that I got blinded from reality. I’m 19, strictly already already an adult, a young adult. But the reality is: my schooling is still financed by my parents and my scholarship. They have a point in wanting me to graduate as early as possible, so I may finally gain financial independence. I guess getting to live out some idealistic 5/6-month dream is not part of my reality.
And you might ask, why not work to ease the burden? Believe me, I have since tortured myself about all these questions, all these ‘what-ifs’. It’s scary, but I am ready and willing to step up to a greater level of responsibility. But–it seems that there’s always that BUT. Again, the argument of me only prolonging my schooling gets rehashed again. That’s essentially the gist of the arguments, anyway.
If you’re reading, I don’t know what you’re getting from this post. You might think I’m whining. You might think I’m a total failure, a disappointment, for not being strong and willful enough to go after a dream. But the truth remains that: my will is not the only one that matters.
I also want it too. I want to graduate already too. My course spans five years, and stopping for a semester will entail another additional year of schooling. Perhaps yes this is a great opportunity, but the timing just isn’t right. But I have thought about this hard even from the beginning, and I had begun to accept it. But my parents just can’t, and I just couldn’t leave without their approval.
I just plan to bury myself in worthwhile endeavors this semester. Although that won’t probably make me less aware of the big opportunity that I threw out the window, I hope it would lessen the pain of that awareness.
My heart is aching as I type. I hope I can blur that pain with worthwhile things this second semester.