Since I was 10, my birthday wish has remained the same. All I wish for is for mother to die. Overtime, I noticed that it is quite hard for her to die. She is darn healthy all the time, even COVID did nothing to her.
She loves to draw her own conclusion without being informed. She said she knew I didn’t want to pursue my studies. For real, what does she know. Does she know how many nights I spent crying and feeling that I am useless, failing at every attempt I do? Does she know that my social anxiety is so severe that I hyperventilate just by standing on the street? Does she know that her mere existence makes freeze? No, she knew nothing.
So don’t tell me you know me. You won’t even listen to what I say so how do you know me? You don’t and you never will. I know I am slow. I know I am nothing. But I also know that I am very certain of my goals in life. Guess what, one of my goals is to leave her for good forever. I care not if she will end up pushing her own wheel chair or losing her way to go home.
On this silent night, may my wish come true. My birthday is coming in less than a week, may I start attaining my goals. If all fails by next February, I am done with life. It’s either me or her.