59th Journey
Huh, compared to most people here, I’ll say I was lucky. My parents are far from perfect, but they aren’t murderous psychos or evil megalomaniacs. They are both alive and in good health, in Tokyo: Nakajima Masashi and Nakajima Ritsuko.
My dad, he's businessman and a traditional type of Japanese man who believes girls need to be pretty and meek, while my mom... she's a housewife who supports her husband in almost everything he says. Never witnessed them to have an argument; when they did, it was behind my back. Both were too concerned about appearance more than the actual family lifestyle. Can't say I was innocent in this myself. They were flawed and lacking, so was I who played the same pretending game. This doesn't make us horrible people. Just recently, I realized we were strangers living under the same roof and how they didn't know me at all; dad thinks I'm good as dead for "running away" and mom cries and says I could never do it because I was a "good girl".
But I don't know them. Not really: how can I blame them? I never made an effort to know them or be known. Too much busy projecting a perfect mask of the good daughter, eager to please.
What an idiot, yeah? I was a coward and lazy to break from my shell.
...Likewise, I realized that my origins are more muddled than I first thought.
So City, question time: Which one is "family"? The parents who wanted you and got their future child robbed away by freak weather or the ones who got stuck with you and raised you thinking all the time you were theirs but knowing you weren't quite right?
I've taken my choice already, but I'll like to listen to others. To me, they are both strangers to make amends to and looking forward to meet.
My dad, he's businessman and a traditional type of Japanese man who believes girls need to be pretty and meek, while my mom... she's a housewife who supports her husband in almost everything he says. Never witnessed them to have an argument; when they did, it was behind my back. Both were too concerned about appearance more than the actual family lifestyle. Can't say I was innocent in this myself. They were flawed and lacking, so was I who played the same pretending game. This doesn't make us horrible people. Just recently, I realized we were strangers living under the same roof and how they didn't know me at all; dad thinks I'm good as dead for "running away" and mom cries and says I could never do it because I was a "good girl".
But I don't know them. Not really: how can I blame them? I never made an effort to know them or be known. Too much busy projecting a perfect mask of the good daughter, eager to please.
What an idiot, yeah? I was a coward and lazy to break from my shell.
...Likewise, I realized that my origins are more muddled than I first thought.
So City, question time: Which one is "family"? The parents who wanted you and got their future child robbed away by freak weather or the ones who got stuck with you and raised you thinking all the time you were theirs but knowing you weren't quite right?
I've taken my choice already, but I'll like to listen to others. To me, they are both strangers to make amends to and looking forward to meet.