As if my seemingly irrelevant status were not enough, yesterday it was affirmed that my parents had boarded their flight and were (unfortunately) returning home.
How have the past six weeks slipped so illusively?
I don’t want them to come back because I refuse to relinquish the blissful sense of freedom I’ve become accustomed to during these past days. And I just don’t want this newfound sense of liberation to abruptly cease.
Frankly, I am perplexed at how I can just go back to those days of strayed dignity. Abandon this spirited carefreeness and replace it with melancholy. As if it were as simple as turning on a light switch. To go back to being that house guest who has overstayed her welcome.
And I don’t want to.
So please, please don’t make me.
How am I supposed to continue this bleak life of mine sans euphoric freedom? How can I even begin my days without having my sidekick to wake up next to? Those peaceful and ever adoring almond eyes greeting me with undiluted joy and appreciation. I can’t even imagine starting one day without our innocuous morning battles over my used socks. How can I find the motivation to leave this house without the incentive of knowing I will find her curled up atop her blanket on that couch? Just patiently awaiting me to return.
How will I see the day’s end without her perpetually by my side?
How will my back continue to heal if I do not have permission to wear proper Nike sneakers inside this house? How can I just relinquish my right to eat and drink whatever the hell I want to for lunch and dinner? And those snacks in between? There shall be no more peach ice tea breaks for me. Where am I going to dump random belongings after work if the dining table will become solely reserved for dining? How will I get any work done at night when I have to hide behind closed doors? Most importantly, how will I sleep at night without my sidekick tucked away in my arms? How can she comfort me when anxiety or panic strikes, induced by irrational thoughts or by creepy sounds outside my window, when she is moved back outside to her kennel?
How am I supposed to go back to those days of suppression and depression? How am I supposed to do this after a small taste of pure ecstasy?
I can not fathom it.
I don’t want to stop wearing footwear indoors. I don’t want to cease impromptu solo dance sessions of happiness. I don’t want to stop snacking on sugary treats at 3pm. I don’t want my sidekick moved away from me. I don’t want her place on that couch replaced with under-stuffed cushions. I don’t want to stop taking her for morning walks. And I especially don’t want her sleeping outside neither.
I don’t want to stop reading at night and going about my life effortlessly and jovially.
Please, don’t do this to me again.