i have been carrying around with me a little secret that i try my best not to tell. it's a little parcel that i hold dear to my heart, almost like an evading child greedily trying not to share. i know of its contents, i know of the bliss it offers me, i know of it's addicting properties and i know also the consequences it entails if i indulge myself too much... and no, my secret is not chocolate.
i have tried for many days now to wean myself of my ever growing cravings for i have found myself distracted. i have pangs almost constantly. i think about it, dream about it even when i am awake. there have been times when i would catch myself willing for it to materialize before me, that in my mind, it does, almost becoming corporeal, palpable, tactile. i have never wanted something so bad. but such is the problem i have with my little secret, that in its essence, even if it offers me immeasurable joy every time i savor it, that in the end it is bad. though the child in me struggles to cling on to it with all the might a simple needy child could muster, the adult in me simply just could not let things be.
i sat by our round dinner table last night, right beside mother, my place ever since. even if i looked like i was fully engrossed in consuming my meal, my mind was in a wander, stalking my secret for it still lusted for it. i had to tell someone, i said, even if it means opening my beautiful parcel to the scrutiny of others, other who cannot understand. i set my fork down and took a breath of courage and turned to mother. joined to the soul, she turned to me, already smelling something was coming up. her eyes were clear, translucent, looking straight into mine with all tenderness that only a mother can offer to her offspring. a swallow, a moment of hesitation, and then i started. "mom... can i tell you something?"
her initial reaction was normal. she shuddered almost like her body was immersed in frigid waters. she had mastered the art of repression so long that on the moments reality would kiss her, a dam of stored emotions and reflexes and reactions would suddenly come gushing out. i was not offended by it for i knew my mother, she needed to get attuned. her face contorted and she let off a long sigh of despair for again, her hopes that her son would turn out to be normal was again crushed by the affirmation that i was not. i let her be, to go through the discomfort for she needed to do it, for her sake as well. i consider it a truth prophylaxis, small doses here and there until, hopefully, her moments of shock will eventually cease.
she had looked away from me now, her face looking focused. she was clearly struggling with the information i had just divulged and as how i know her and her process, she was now taking counsel from her greater source. mother was always my hot line to heaven. with a pained look, she then turned back to me and asked "so what do you do now?". "i don't know, ma", i replied. we talked a bit more about my secret, dissecting it and considering its parts. we spoke in hushed tones since father lingered about and she did not want him to be involved in any way. we eventually decided to leave things be for now. mother gestured that this required far greater discussion and the dining table was not the place for it. she set a time for me that evening... but we never got to have that talk. i was already busy at work and she too had to finish her's for the day. though our conversation was left unresolved, i could not help it but feel a bit more relieved. i did not feel as heavy anymore and a tad of the burden my little secret offered had obviously been lifted away.