Fourteen minutes into my actual shift schedule and I’m more or less done with the things I need to do today for work. Isn’t that a dream job? Throughout the remainder of the day I will be asked to work on other things, assist on other tasks, be present on other meanings, but yeah, that’s my work day pretty much.
Today, I wanna talk about a little girl at McDonald’s that I found interesting. The thing about her that caught my attention was how, unlike most kids today, she was not seeking attention. She didn’t look very interested to know if other people are looking at her. She was sitting with her father who was having breakfast and reading the newspaper, she was humming to herself, completely lost in a tune she probably made up, while working on some toddler activity thay didn’t involve a tablet (I think it was a coloring book, I didn’t really check).
I couldn’t help but imagine myself as a kid. I wondered if I needed too much attention, or was I happy enough on my own with very little involvement of externals. I told myself that I was gonna ask my parents but I forgot.
Since this year started, I had been giving what was then a parallel univere much thought. At the start of the year, I was in a relationship. The parallel universe I was imagining then was me minus the significant other. I wondered if I can survive solitude, if my happiness relied on the fact that I had a lover, if things would be happier if there was no boyfriend. The thought eventually consumed me. Six months later, I found another reason valid enough to let go of the relationship, though trivial.
For the purposes of secrecy and self-preservation, I will not further elaborate.
And so I did — end the relationship, that is.
I can’t say which state makes me happier. Not right now.
“For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
Because I want to keep my focus on the good, I’m just gonna say what I enjoy now with my solitude.
I get to read more, write more, talk to myself more, cry more, be strong for myself, do more for myself, and be happier with the little steps I’m taking to make myself complete without the need of external factors.
I stopped worrying about a lot of things.
Am I good enough?
What if I don’t want kids ever?
Is he ever gonna hurt me physically?
How will it end?
What if he gets tired of me or I of him?
Is he gonna hate me for things I can never be, or am?
I don’t entirely know what’s behind the insecurities. Are they even real? Or am I just making up reasons because deep inside I want my solitude?
Do I really want my solitude? Or am I in love with the idea of being strong alone?
The little girl looked up from her coloring book.
She looked at the cars passing by the intersection were the burger joint sat. But who knows what was really going on in her pretty little head. And then she looked at her father who was reading the newspaper while sipping coffee. And then back to her coloring book. With her own little tune playing in her head. She was at peace with herself. She held no guilt for the decisions she’s made in life. (blue or green for her eyes? Pink or purple for the flowers? Red or brown for the house?). She wasted no time hating the corrupt government, the rampant crime in the city, the price of foreign currency, that her father was so concerned about to even look at his daughter or hold her hand.
She was her own. In her own little world. She was free.