I often think of how others will feel or get impacted by my actions.
Will I trouble them if I miss a day of work? If yes, I will drag my body to work even if it hurts me.
“You know, health is everything.” H quietly stirred her cup of drink as she watched me drown my cup of coffee, rather enviously.
I felt bad, as though a reflex to her envious gaze. Drinking the drink that we often indulged our carefree afternoons with, while we were young and less burdened with responsibilities.
Now much older, her health became a deterrent to our favourite cup.
She sensed my silence and cracked a joke, “come on, maybe if I’m good, I’ll get to drink it with you once again.”
Though deep in our hearts, we both know that it’s rather impossible, it would be good to maintain status quo.
The silence said it all.
“Don’t be like me, take good care of yourself…” she said, sensing my anxiety amongst the crowd. “Your anxiety seems to be getting worse.”
I couldn’t manage a response, overwhelmed by the crowd, yet trapped in the mall because of the rain that’s not letting up.
“I’m trying.”
“For who?”
That sentence struck me, hard.
“Try for yourself, heck how others feel. If they need to cover you and feel unhappy about it, they need to quit their job. It’s not your fault, really.”
“But it sucks to hear it…”
“They’re selfish. That’s it, why do you need to be considerate to others on the expense of your own well-being?” H rolled her eyes, frustrated by my lack of response.
“Not like they appreciate it anyway, they prolly take it for granted. You’re a nobody to them, but you’re a someone to your family and friends. People who guilt trip you when you’re feeling unwell, clearly isn’t your friend anyway.”
Perhaps.
Her voice fades as I’m lost in my own thoughts.
Perhaps, I’m investing my time in the nobodies, instead of the somebodies.
Perhaps this is all, nothing but a mistake.
“Come on la, don’t sulk please. I’m not angry with you.”
I shook my head, “I’m not. Thanks for always being so concerned, and for thinking of me despite of the things that you’ve been going through.”
“You know, being ill, lets you gain perspectives. It’s like a pair of glasses when you’ve been short sighted all your life. You gain clarity what matters more, and who are the people who truly cares. You, my friend, has been my rock, and I want to be yours too.”
H reduced me to a public embarrassment as I cried in the middle of the shopping mall.
May we all be healed, in our terms.





