by Szilvia Adler

Created on: July 24, 2010

Since the divorce of my parents, I barely saw my mother and my younger sister; both have gone away. My father and youngest sister stayed home, but I was barely home either. I spent my days in the city I studied and when I had time, I went to her boyfriend’s place.

I barely came home anymore. I kept in contact through phone with my youngest sister and my father and through MSN and Skype with my mother and younger sister.

I felt alienated and excluded. It was my slip-up. I let the situation go out of hand. I didn’t have time to come home. It would mean spending less time with my boyfriend.

The six-hour trips back home weighted in the situation. In the third year, there were too many subjects I had to prepare and study for. The train rides could not be blamed for spending less time home. I managed them, just fine. I saw people, listened to them when the mp3 player wasn’t on, and jotted down some ideas I had about life and the philosophical impossibilities that entered along the way.

The transfer seemed to be a resolution. It kept my hopes up, and I pushed further and further. I could see my physiological and emotional barriers and limits.

I overcame myself in the examination period. I hadn’t pushed this far previously. This push came from the pressuring fact that if I wanted to be considered a transfer applicant, all my courses had to be finished before the summer break. So I finished at the prize of having all my stored energies emptied and worn down.

There was nothing that could compel me when I was done. I was exhausted. The energy I needed to rebalance myself was nowhere in sight. I vegetated. I, once more, became the observer of the lives around me. I excluded myself from my environment. There was nothing new in it; there was nothing refreshing about it. I lingered and the days have gone by. That was all I wanted; the days to go by without corrupt intentions and harsh situations.

I wished to spend time with my mother, to whom I looked up to every time I made a decision. Would mother do the same? Mother could have done this so much better… Mother is like a brick everybody wants to work with and get acquainted with.

She was the strongest person I knew. She was the most talented, most stubborn, and most reliable, but not easy to live with. Her mood changed off-times. She could be influenced easily by other people and she took their comments to her heart straight away. Giving her condolences was a hard hit with failed tries most of the times.

I thought if I’d live with my mother and my younger sister, my life would be easier, everything would fall back in place and I would feel alive again.

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