whatever I want, whenever I want.
I can sleep as much as I want, whenever I want to. I wake up to the sound of my careless alarm at 10 am in the morning only to turn it off and sleep in until 12 pm. Yet, I miss hearing my mom’s rampant screams from the kitchen at 7 am, coaxing me to wake up for school. Each call was spaced 30 seconds apart, it was easier to start the day than to hit snooze on her. I could only sleep in for five minutes then, I sleep in for hours now.
I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want to. I can drink sprite on an empty stomach if I wanted to and eat chicken nuggets for all three meals a day, I can eat my first meal at 5 pm or 4 am, and have breakfast for dinner or ice cream at midnight. I can eat whatever I want, but what I need is water. I miss waking up in the morning and sitting down at the dining table with my sister beside me and my mom in the kitchen. I miss cribbing about a plate of fresh fruits, eggs, dosa and red chutney. I miss complaining about having to still drink pediasure at 18. I waited so long for the day I could substitute soda for water but all I want right now is a cup of pediasure. I forgot what it feels like to eat food so hot it burns the roof of your mouth if you eat too fast, because for some reason everything I eat now is at room temperature. But most of all, I miss seeing the food on my plate being made. I miss standing around with my mom in the kitchen, gossiping with her as she cooks the best food of my life day after day, meal after meal. I detest having to eat out of plastic and cardboard boxes. I miss carrying a lunchbag to school everyday and opening my lunchbox to a post-it note and piping hot hoomemade food made with all the love in my mom’s heart. The post-it notes, my most prized possession, are now a relic of the past that are pinned against the wall of my desk. I haven’t been fed in months, even though I eat everyday. My mom’s love was the salt in my food; everything I eat now is flavorless.
I have so many friends; friends I can talk to about whatever, whenever I want to. I am constantly surrounded by the best company. Friends I spend sleepless nights just talking to, friends who are always just a text or a phone call away, friends who are always there for me, friends who are like family to me. Yet, the friend I want most, is my sister. I miss making vlogs with my sister, I miss our karaoke nights, I miss screaming in her face when she refuses to get me water, I miss rummaging through every inch of her wardrobe and bargaining relentlessly for that one pair of Aritzia jeans. I want nothing more than to hold my sister’s hand and be her best friend.
I live in LA. There are so many places I can go to do whatever I want, whenever I want to. I’m out every week, at the fanciest restaurants, the prettiest sceneries, the nicest beaches, and the most pretentious malls. But I miss going out with my mom. I miss holding her hand, I miss restaurant hopping with her, I miss exploring the world with her by my side. Everywhere I go, I make a mental note of everything I experience because I want her to experience everything with me. My mom is my world, and it feels empty seeing the world without her holding my right hand and my sister holding my left.
I thought home is an effervescent definition, a concept that is never constant. I was wrong. Home isn’t an idea that is ever-changing, it is an idea that you build upon. What was once home will never be replaced, it will only be improved on. You will never let go of what was once home, because it was once everything you’ve ever known. I realize now that my perception of home as a fleeting plane of existence was based majorly on the changes in my physical environment. I’ve went through a lot of change, but always with my mom by my side. Now that I walk into an unkempt shoebox dorm room after school everyday instead of my mom taking her afternoon nap on our living room sofa, I’ve come to realize that it is a big, scary world out here, a world that is a lot bigger than just my mom, sister and I.
