When you read this, I would have already left. I don’t even know if you’ll ever read this, and if you do… would you have healed? Leaving was the only choice I had. No, let me take that back. It wasn’t the only choice. It was the best choice. Perhaps I’m a coward for not having the strength to tell you this in person, and instead submitting this into a tumblr site, not even knowing if you would ever find this post. Or perhaps, if this post would even be posted. Or perhaps, a part of me is selfish enough to want you to know the truth, however slim the chances are. Truth be told, I told myself I never want to tell you the reason why I truly left.
I’m writing this today, 9/5/2011. My father has already been given an ultimatum about a week ago. Two to three months. Give or take, I guess. It would have been too hard to stay here in the United States. Way, way too hard. I had to get away. And that is why I decided to go to Taiwan. You know, I had thought in August that maybe… maybe if you asked me to stay, I would. If we got married, and granted one of my dad’s wishes: to be able to give away at least one of his daughters, I would have a reason to stay. But then I kept thinking, and I realized I can’t let you throw your life away.
You have been brought up in a well off family. You always got what you wanted, as long as it was reasonable. You never had to fear not having money. You would spend your money on things like “better” food, because McDonald’s wasn’t treating yourself well enough. You would spend your money on games, because you had that kind of spare change. You can tell your boss that you want a day off to go on dates with me. You want carefree dates that are filled with frolicking around in the meadows, so to speak. I can’t give you any of that.
I was born at least twenty years old, and only growing older. Since the sixth grade I have been frustrated because of financial problems. I can’t afford days off other than for emergencies. To you, spending time with one another can count as an emergency, but to me, that’s nothing. Yes, I said it. It’s nothing to me because I have responsibilities. I might be merely eighteen, but everyone tells me I act at least twenty eight. Perhaps even older with the ways I find to save money, save water, save electricity. You know what my friend calls me? She calls me, “少女歐巴桑”. Translated, that means Teenage Granny. And quite regretfully, I have to agree.
You don’t understand. I can’t tell you so many things. It’s not because I don’t trust you. I would trust you with my whole life. Meeting you is the one most amazing things that has happened to me. Before you, I never knew what it meant to have a family. You and your family has given me nothing but smiles and I would wish for nothing but a family like that. The warmth in your family warms my heart every time I see them, and it makes me so sorry that I never had the fate to be a part of it. But perhaps it’s the differences between our families that makes it so hard for us to stay together. Your family would do anything… your parents would give anything to keep you safe. They don’t tell you a lot of problems. They don’t rely on you to solve a lot of problems. But me? I was born knowing all the problems of my family. I was born to help my family at times of need. I said once before that I am nothing but a bottle of glue in my family: I am there to paste things together when things are broken, but once I’m done being used… I am as transparent as the dried glue. And when things don’t work out? I am blamed, just like the glue stick that couldn’t glue together pieces of plastic. Our worlds are to different. I don’t want to make a mark on your innocence. Though you are three years older than me, there is so much more that I have gone through that I would never want you to see or go through.
Being with me is difficult, and it would only get more difficult. My sister has to go to school as well, now. She needs to pay for school. My dad can’t work anymore, obviously. My mom doesn’t know English. I am the only one in the family who can work. I have even more responsibilities than I had just a year ago. I’m being forced to grow even older than I was, and I am never going to get any younger.
You tell me every day that “one day” we can have that childish date, carefree and lovely. I want that day. I want it so bad, I can’t even… but I can’t. I know I can’t. I don’t want you to hope for something so impossible. I don’t want to string you along. I want you to remember that we once had this beautiful relationship. I don’t want this to become a regret. One day, you might wake up and realize you spent your childhood waiting for someone who never had time for you, because she was too busy growing up. I don’t want you to realize one day that you wasted your time on someone who raced through time and could never spare you a second.
If this were a parallel universe, maybe we could stay together. I love you. I love you more and more with each passing day. But I don’t have enough room in my mind and my heart and my life to fit you in, and it’s not fair for you. You deserve someone who can grow up with you. Someone who can learn with you. Someone who can walk with you. Not someone who is already so far ahead in life, and unable to backtrack to you. I’m sorry. This is my true reason for leaving. I would have stayed the moment you told me you wanted me to stay, but I didn’t want to give you that chance. You once told me once that you would choose to marry me in a second over breaking up. You told me that in your mind, you didn’t want to lose me, and that was that. You told me you know that you are immature. You told me that you know that choice is an immature one, but you wouldn’t care. Well, let me tell you this: I am the mature one in this relationship, and I care. My love for you doesn’t mean I have to keep you. I love you enough to see the consequences that you will face if you married me, and I don’t want you to have to face them. Just knowing that you would choose to marry me is enough. It’s enough. One day, you will marry someone who you can share every moment of your life with, and will do the same with you. I love you, I really do. But I will get over you, and I hope you will get over me, too. Whether or not we end up meeting again… I suppose that would depend on Fate. If we end up with a chance to meet again, I hope we can still be friends. Best of friends. I’m sorry.
by anonymous