On a lazy Sunday afternoon, I watched the four corners of my room. Just like the way I did when I was little. Tonight, a cold lonely night, I do the same. I think of how many times I've done this.., 24 years? Maybe not. But as I peak out my door, I felt that distance; a breeze of isolation. When I walked to the edge of the stairs, I had second thoughts: "Should I go? Whatelse do I need from down there?" Everything I'd probably need, everything I own..they're in my room. But - I still find it within me.. - why? The urge to go and check on things. I guess I just miss the old me.. the sweet little Leslie.. how I miss her. The dreamer, the storyteller; a joker, a darling; the stronger and the fighter, born on the year of the Tiger. I miss hanging out in my parents room.. I miss talking to the family.. I miss giving my mom my sweet goodnight kisses every night for 15 long minutes before I actually get myself to bed. Now, I'm besieged by hesitations running through my mind and have learned to get used to finding a home in my own little crying cave. I miss that bond I had with mom.. it's different now. Things change and I guess we were part of it. I miss sharing my thoughts to her.. now where do I go? Blogging. I hate to think that this happened to me, to her, to us. And even if I try to put them things back the way they were before.. it's hard.. like trying to fix a broken glass. I miss being a baby to her, now all I think of are my own problems and how I wish to leave this place! I've gone and isolated myself, even found regrets why I'm here. I've always felt like I was different, always felt like I didn't belong. You see, I am just as emotional as my mother. And the connection between us will always be there. And I wish she was right here, right now, beside me.. putting me to sleep.. singing me a lullaby..; then I'd hug her tight like I always did, kiss her goodnight, as she wipes the tears running down my eyes..
