iii. i look in people's windows.
SEVEN YEARS AGO
What do you want to be when you grow up?
That question will always halt me in my steps, even at the age of eighteen, when my relatives start to question me about my plan for the future and what program I will be studying for college—a fight for my dreams and practicality to survive.
I honestly don't see myself in the future; I don't know what to study in college, I don't know what my future will look like, and I don't know if I will succeed. I'm terrified about the future and the days to come.
"Cyrielle, just take nursing," my grandma suggested. She's been forcing this onto me since I was in fourth grade. I was a kid back then; I was ten years old with a dream yet she crushed it because I'll get nowhere by designing clothes. "It will be easier to find a job and it's a demand job, especially abroad."
My mouth was sealed shut; I couldn't say anything because I'd been hearing this for more than a decade now. I practically memorize the line and what comes next; it's been on and on since I started having a dream.
"You'll get nowhere by designing clothes," Grandma continued as I could feel my heart being squeezed and I bit my lower lip so I couldn't cry. I've been hearing this for more than a decade yet it still stings, a knife twisting in my heart, bleeding till I couldn't breathe anymore. "It's not practical enough, whereas if you take nursing, there will be a job awaiting you."
"Cyrielle, if you don't want to take nursing, then you can pursue accounting," my aunt—my father's younger sister—remarked. "It's also practical and in demand; it can land you a job immediately."
"Accounting is okay as well," my grandma said. "Studying literature won't do you good as well; no one gets rich in writing and it's not even in demand; you'll have a hard time finding a job related to literature."
That stings a lot; it feels like the whole world collapses on me. Aside from designing clothes, writing is my first love; it helps soothe me and I did consider being a writer but those dreams were crushed by their words.
"We're doing this merely for guidance," they said and I did nothing but sit as my heart sank deeper that I feel it will be lying on the ground so they can repeatedly step on it. "You won't make it in life if you continue with your nonsense dream as a fashion designer."
I merely nodded and continued to seal my mouth shut because once I open my mouth, my voice will be shaky and tears will overflow, my breath starting to be unsteady, my chest closing my airway; I feel like I'm about to collapse.
"Excuse me for a bit," I uttered, standing up. "I have to pee." I left the living room and immediately went upstairs. I didn't have to pee; it was only an excuse for me to leave—my parents, my grandma, my aunt, my uncle, my cousin and his wife and son are there—all of them are on my father's side and it's intoxicating to be in the same room with them when all they do is criticize what I want to do in my life.
As soon as I reached my room, I immediately climbed on my bed as I embraced my knees and gazed at the window outside. It's peaceful outside, though there are people walking around the streets but it's still peaceful. I look at people's windows every time I feel my tears starting to fall from my cheeks; it makes me revert my attention to how each window from my neighborhood has a different story, different yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
It's fascinating how the window across from me is a married couple who have been married for three years and are celebrating their first pregnancy, and next to their house that I can see from their window is a girl who is jumping happily with her parents because she got into her dream school.
Yet here I am, holding my chest as tears stream down my cheeks, feeling my heart rate unsteady in sync with my breathing. I muffled my voice as I buried my face in between my knees that I held tightly for comfort.
I reached for my phone next to me as I heard it vibrate; a faint smile ghosted on my lips as I saw the message from my best friend, Donato.
"Chocolate cake?"
That was his message and it fluttered my heart how he knows what I need this time. I gazed on the side and there he was, standing, gazing at me with a comforting smile, wearing the t-shirt I bought him on his birthday last year.
"At my parent's restaurant? My treat."
Donato's next message made me wipe my tears as he opened his window and slowly walked to the tree that connected to our house—the tree we used to hide in when we were kids when our parents called our name and we still didn't want to call it a night.
I open my window and meet him in the middle, where he gives me a comforting hug that makes all the words and discouragement that I heard from my family a while ago vanish into thin air; his hug replaces those sting words with a soothing comfort I yearn to have.
"Don't listen to them," Donato softly muttered as his finger ran through my hair softly. "I saw your relatives from my window and whatever they said that made you cry, know that it's not true."
"But what if they are right?" I sobbed. "What if I won't succeed in life because I choose to pick a wrong program to study in college? Maybe I should just give up being a fashion designer and choose nursing, just like what my grandma said. Maybe then they'll finally be proud of me; they've been pressuring me to study nursing for so long now. Maybe it's time for me to listen to them. Maybe I can finally hear how proud they are of me if I follow them."
"You won't be happy if you pursue nursing," Donato responded. "We both know how much you hated going to the hospital and you said that nursing isn't something you see yourself doing for the rest of your life."
I nodded. I respect the profession but I just can't see myself working in the hospital.
"But what if I fail, Donny?"
"You won't fail, Cy," he assured as his thumb wiped my tears. "You're the smartest and most dedicated person I ever met. You would always find a way to solve a problem no matter how small or big it is. That's the kind of person you are; you never give up."
"I can't afford to fail, Donny. I'm an only child, the first and last card of my family and if I fail, I'll be a big disgrace."
"You're not going to fail, Cy. I believe in you."
"Thank you, Donny," I uttered as my heart rate and breathing were going steady.
"No need to thank me, Cy. You know I'm always here for you," he says and gazes at me and flashes a smile. "Now, let's buy you a chocolate cake."
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