Track 7 – Emotional Firework

As summer stumbled to a close and the next semester approached with its icy grip, the weight of increasingly difficult exams bore down heavily. Work had become more exhausting, with my manager’s disapproval from the summer turning her once kind demeanor frosty, fitting the season, and I struggled as asking her for guidance quickly turned into personal affronts against her.

Christmas went by whirringly, like a brilliant bright sounding bell that rang once and then got covered under a sheet of snow. As the new year approached, I decided to visit my father, as maybe a change of scenery would help clear my mind. But as I traveled to his home, the sight of people on the streets preparing for New Year’s Eve, their faces relaxed and joyful, only heightened my sense of dread. They were all looking forward to a fresh start, while I felt trapped in – what I didn’t exactly know. As my dad’s family hung up colorful decorations and made preparations for New Year’s dinner, I tried to join in, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the exam coming up, the fear of failing gnawing at me. I could only grit my teeth and try to make sense of the course material, while I unsuccessfully attempted to see the screen through the opaque fog in my mind.

I must have looked stressed, because my dad asked: “You seem quiet tonight, is everything okay?” The question caught me off guard, and I mumbled: “Yeah, yeah I just have so much to do. It’s the exams you know, I feel like I can’t work right now. But I need to. I don’t know…” I chocked a bit. “I’m not sure if I can do this right now.” He frowned. “But you have always done well, so I’m sure you’ll be alright. Or not?” He added as he saw my worn out expression. “I feel so tired Dad, with everything. All of it tires me, I just can’t anymore.” To my shock I felt tears welling up hotly, too powerful to stop completely. This couldn’t be happening. I didn’t lose it in front of my dad, not in front of his family, not with my dad looking right at me. I only ever cried in front of Mom. I turned away and left for the living room, but heard my father following me: “Are you alright, honey?” I looked at him, a sob caught in my throat, and before I knew it, I was crying. My father, who had always been more distant, more pragmatic, seemed taken aback at first. But then, without a word, he pulled me into a deep hug, holding me close as I cried into his shoulder.

“I feel like I’m disappointing you all if I can’t do it all.”, I confessed after some sobs and my dads coaxing. “It’s okay, Sio,” he murmured, his voice steady and comforting. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone – not to me, not to your classmates, not even to yourself.”

“I just always felt like you expected me not to fail at anything, and I don’t know if I can do that. Why do you expect so much of me? Everyone else is allowed to fail all the time, why not me?” He pulled me even closer, and a whimper escaped me. “Of course you can fail. But look at how far you’ve come. I know that if you just do your best, that’s enough. I’m proud of you, no matter what. So, just do that.”

As the evening drew to a close, and the outside grew louder with fireworks, I felt a quiet resolve settle within me as I sat with my father. I felt the inklings of something I hadn’t felt in a long time – peace. Whatever happened next, I knew I would be okay.