Meaningless Words by Krisha Chawan

Should I? Should I say it? I want to say it but my fear of hurting others is choking me. The fear is so powerful that it is extracting the soul, the depth and the feels of my words. Now, I guess I have to move on. I have to look for something else to say. I have to leave it.

This is the idea that my 13 year old mind was trying to wrap around.

Trying to.

Going back,in my faintest memories I can see myself arguing uncontrollably with my parents. Only over a trip overseas.They wanted me to go because they felt the need for me to relax as well as to be able to explore. Meeting new people seemed like an incredible way to spend my precious time. To them.

However, our minds differed from each other.

I did not want to go on this little adventure because I felt like I was walking right into a trap. I knew that going to a different country after so long would mean that I would have to adapt all over again. Change. I knew with all of this, it would be impossible for me to act myself. I perceived that I was running towards my problems instead of trying to get away from them. I had hoped that my thoughts would be considered by my parents. But they were not.

This proved only one thing to me. They did not care about my opinions. They basically did not care about me. I knew I was probably wrong but somewhere in me, I longed for them to know that they did not understand me or my feelings enough. Or did I?

So many thoughts were flowing in and out of my head and sooner or later, they were going to be poured out into real life. However, something pulled me back. My fear. My phobia. The thought of hurting others unintentionally scared me to death. I knew the repercussions beforehand because I knew my parents very well. At some point, I even wondered whether I had ever truly known my parents. How could I think of such things? How could I betray them? How could I possibly think of them not caring about me when they worked earnestly to please my desires?

Slowly, my thoughts carelessly started disappearing as though I never knew about their existence. Everything in my head seemed meaningless yet I let go of it. I understood that it would be better off if I didn’t say anything.

I realized how grateful I was for my fear. Without it, I would have ended up creating further conflicts with my parents only causing a distant relationship. My fear taught me restrictions towards expressing my feelings openly because, sometimes being overly candid can hurt. It can leave unwanted bruises that might never heal.

My fear has taught me to believe in one thing. I believe that some things are better left unspoken.