Traffic Light (11 Dec)

I met this man sometime ago and today was the second time we were let in to his house.

We sat in his brand-new wooden gazebo and was supposed to talk about dyslexia but, you know, life is never about how you want it to be, so suddenly the wind of conversation changed into many directions we could no longer get a grip on. It was fun, though.

He talked of how there are people out there posing out as relationship motivator.
Despite ridiculing the idea at first, he admitted to be fascinated by one piece of advice he ever heard.
That, getting the ‘right’ person should have never been so difficult. Because, it’s all about sending and receiving the same signal. Green and green. Two people wanting to be together in the first place. Not at all about trying to change the red light into green–it will be just a waste of time.Yellow light is not tolerable either, because once the person found his/her green, he/she will surely dispose her yellow.

And I wondered whether that applied too to all things we wanted in life. Moments, jobs, people, places.
I believe it is.

Then I suddenly feel the strong urge to be back home.
I just need to be at home.
Among the people who will accept me regardless condition, time, moment.

On my way back in the train,
Friend of mine asked,
“Why is it you tend to hurt people without you knowing it?”
I answered, of course because I didn’t realise what I did apparently hurt people.
I am aware, though, how I tend to take too much more than I can give–and that’s bad.
I can’t keep those who matters to me. Things that are important to me. And when they’re gone, I don’t struggle. I don’t fight for them. I only feel emptier. Bit by bit.
I also am aware that I am present at the expense of other people.
I know they have to put out greater energy just to have me between them.
It cost them lot.
And I can never pay them back.

I am home now.
It’s just so good to be among people who accept me without expense–my father and brother.
In few weeks ahead I may visit my mother and sister too. Then my grandfather, grandmother, and my cousins–who all live in one roof.
I haven’t been home consecutively for more than a day.
In last two years, I can’t remember a time I visitted home without having specific interest.
I usually came back to take clothes. Or having to meet my friend nearby my house.
This is the first in last two years.
Father made a remark how odd it is for me to come home in the middle of the week, just for a day, without prior notice.
(I texted him an hour before I took the train)

But other than that, he still treated me the same.
Making sure I’m all stuffed. Offering good dine and some well-known local kebab he and my brother happened to take liking lately.
Mundane conversations–which are all good.
Everything’s good.
I’m just so happy to be home.

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