I tie my shoes
I tried to tie it tight
One layer,
Two—
But it's messy
I tried to fix it
But it end up almost loosening

Fuck it, I said
So I walk
...
And I run

But for the first time in my life,
I go past it
I chose a different route
A route I once thought about
A route I never thought I'd try to pursue
And when I pass by the house I was so familiar with—in this point of view,
It looks different for the first time
It looks crowded,
But it feels lonely

So I look away
And I run
Thinking I might be doing the wrong thing
Thinking I might be wrong all this time
Thinking I might be choosing the wrong path that time
Thinking how everything crumbles
Thinking how I didn't mean everything I said
Thinking how I might be a fucking liar
Thinking how I might be wrong
Thinking how I might be right either—

And I walk
And I walk
And I walk
I ran away

But here I am
Heading head first to the place I'm too familiar with
Once again
I'm heading back home

In the end—

I'll always be back home

Afternoon sunlight filters through the sheer curtains. Carefully, you yank the curtains, letting the warm glow transpire beautifully across the room. Closing your eyes.. you take a deep breath, feeling the scent of freshly-cut grass melt through your systems. Now you're sitting on your bed, gazing absently outside.. to the window you've known all your life.

But he's not there.

"Emily~ How's your run?"

As you're lost in thought, your dad breaks the silence—entering the room with a cheeky smile, fully understanding why you're staring at the window. Startled, you snap your head back to face him, finding him already sporting his trademark raised eyebrow—a silent challenge in his gaze. "Hi dad.." you greet him with a small smile.

"I think I might have to cover your window so there won't be any intruders climbing through, whaddaya think?" he suggests with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, clearly teasing.

However.. you're too.. tired to give in to the usual banter. With your head lowered, you sigh—fidgeting with the edges of your sleeve. On ordinary days, you'd have a tickle fight. But right now.. you're just too.. exhausted for that.

Sensing your mood, Mr. Winters sighs and walks over. You grip the edges of the mattress as if already embracing the incoming impact—before he takes a seat beside you, causing the mattress to sag extravagantly, almost throwing you from your seat.

"Dad—I just.. I don't know what to do. Everything feels so complicated right now—"

But your heartfelt confession is abruptly interrupted by a sudden coughing fit! You jump urgently to assist your dad as he urgently lies down on the bed. "Dad, are you okay—?!" you exclaim, concern etched in your voice. However, with the cough already subsiding, your dad takes a deep breath and gestures to you to be silent.

From downstairs, the sound of rapid footsteps echoes, and moments later, your mom appears in the doorway—panting on the doorframe. Tumba bounds past her and leaps onto the bed, eager to comfort your dad. After catching her breath, your mom rushes to your dad's side, anxiously asks, "Johnny are you okay—?!"

"Goddamn! Can everyone stop overreacting to a little cough?!" your dad exclaims as he glances at Tumba, "And you too, Tumba! Don't catch their hysteria!" he adds—only to be met with concerned barks from the large pitbull.

As you watch in confusion, your dad shifts his gaze back to your visibly panicked mom—who's checking everywhere on your dad—gently reassuring her with a pat on the cheek and a soft "I'm fine." He pats the spot beside him for her to join in. As if they're having a telepathic force, Janet complies, strangely not making this a big deal. No exaggerated arguing. No anything.

You furrow your brow at this unusual behavior—before he bounces his eyebrows as he pointing his finger on you—

"Protect yourself from your own thoughts."

It succeeded in making you shrug your concerns, and yet—the confusion remains, visible on the lines of your face. "What.. do you mean?"

"You gotta differentiate between what looks real and what exactly is real. That's the key to living." he explains. Nearby, Tumba sits attentively, mirroring your own interest. Still puzzled, you continue to gaze at your dad, silently urging him to elaborate. As if acknowledging your telepathy, your dad continues, "And how do we do that?" pausing for a while, he straighten his seat before tilting his head to say,

"By daring to make mistakes."

The words sink in as your eyes widen slightly, your mind momentarily fixating on that one word.. 'mistake.'

Because it feels like mistakes are all you've been making these days.

Somehow in agreement, your mom chimes in, "If you think something is true but you never try to experience what it really is, you remain in a fantasy, Emily.."

And as if dumping their overflowing wisdom in a span of 5 minutes is not enough, your dad adds, "Only by throwing yourself into life and daring to be utterly.. and completely wrong—you can know what reality really means."

As you're drowning in your thoughts, with eyes filled with love, John squeezes Janet's shoulders appreciatively—a hint of pride also shown in his eyes. Mrs. Winters rests her head against Mr. Winters, and a silent exchange of understanding passes between them. Noticing the scene, your eyes soften..

This. This is what you've always craved.

A love like theirs.

Your dad turns to you once more, eyes filled with sincerity as he imparts his final piece of advice, "What we'd like you to know is.. when you're young.. everything might feel like the end of the world.." out of the blue, he extends a hand to you, prompting you to take it.

Not knowing what to do, you dart your eyes to your dad then to your mom—only to find her also in amazement. Eventually, hesitant at first.. you awkwardly reach out and squeeze his hand tenderly—eliciting a small smile from him. From the corners of your eyes, you can feel your mom's moved expression as she covers her mouth with her hands—

"But it's not. It's just the beginning. You might have to meet a few more jerks—ugh I hate saying this so much—"

Only to be broken off in a matter of seconds by your dad's unenthusiastic comment. Scrunching your nose at this rare.. strange but sweet moment, you give your mom—who's now stifling a laugh—a shaking head in confusion, a telepathic way of conveying your 'what the hell is going on with dad?'

Cringing at his own unusual demeanor, John—really fighting for his dignity—continues, "One day—you're gonna meet a boy who treats you the way you deserve to be treated."

As if struck by a slight jolt of electricity—just like every time you're about to enter a car—you register a small jolt of surprise. Reluctantly, John looks at Janet.. and her eyes are already glistening with tears. Squeezing her shoulders, your dad gives her a lopsided grin before—with a low voice, professes,

"Like the sun rises and sets with you."

Like the world is theirs alone, they share a sweet kiss, and you can't help but smile—feeling your heart swell with happiness at the sight of this, feeling incredibly lucky to have parents who love each other so deeply.

You almost feel bad for yourself at your loneliness—but no, you feel more sorry for Tumba—who has been asking for a pat in the head but hasn't been getting any. So you flick your fingers at Tumba, calling him over. As he wiggles beside you, you hug him close, grateful for his comforting presence. At least you have Tumba by your side. Feeling mischievous, you can't resist teasing your dad, so you blurt out,

"Ok now. Which movie quotes you're taking these from?"

Your dad stops mid-kiss with your mom, and snaps his head to you with a busted expression, blurting out, "What?! How did you know, you brat?!"

Staring at your dad with a disgusted and disappointed squint in her eyes, your mom shouts, "Because the only thing you could come up with is YIPPEE KI YAY—"

"and it's from DIE HARD!"

You chime in simultaneously with your mom, raising your hands for a high-five—mischievous laughter escaping both of your lips. With a disgusted face painted on your dad's face, he retracts his head—his double chin tripled. "I watch other movies too, you know! Ever watch 17 Again?! Even I watch young actors now—"

"Dad, Zac Efron's old now. It's an old movie too for God's sake."

Joining in your laughter, your mom playfully slaps your dad's stomach before in a lighthearted way, she shakes your dad's shoulders and remarks, "You know Emily, your very wise dad once told me," and at the unnecessary comment, John rolls his eyes. But ignoring his petty mocking gesture, Janet continues, "If you love someone—or if you feel like you love that someone.."

Pushing your starting-to-get-annoying dad, throwing him away to the barking-needy monster beside him—keeping Tumba busy—your mom leans her body closer to you.. Her gesture more earnest as she pats both of your arms, gently stroking them.

"You say it. Out loud. Or else the moment just pass you by."

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Cecylia Costania @rcpcswrites

You can elevate your experience by also listening to songs I added to this story's playlist! Full Playlist on bio💖

The song that matches this Chapter's vibe:

https://youtu.be/EoVQ_TQFJy0