Act 5, Scene 2: When it will be enough...

Watching andreading the news daily, I always wondered what prevented people from finding a way for peace. What drives them to insane acts of violence that you would think they would be wise enough at their age to avoid. And why they cannot find some common ground from which they can work to find a way for peace.

Then this happened...

It sucks to be the only son in the family. Why? Because so much is expected from you yet so little is given back. As I grew up, I watched as less love was showered upon me. I watched as I excelled yet got so little praise. I watched as I matured so early but still treated like a kid.

I remember when I was about 9, it was my birthday and I had wanted a toy so badly. It was promised to me because I had done well in my exams too. As my sister's birthday was just 5 days from mine, our parents would get our presents at the same time. Our family wasn't always as well off as we are right now, and there were times when we had very little to go by. So when it got time to pay for our gifts, my mum discovered that she did not have enough money to pay for both. And even at that age, I gave in. I told her she didn't have to get me mine cos it wasn't very important. And I watched my sister get hers. Of course I got it later, but I still believed I did the right thing by giving in.

Another experience I had was when I was 12. I had done well enough for my PSLE and my parents promised to get me a gift that I wanted. At that time, I was hoping to get a radio-controlled airplane. My sister, on the other hand, had just been demoted from the Express stream in secondary school to the Normal Academic one. For her gift (why does she get one even after being demoted? Because at the end of each year, when my dad got his bonus, he'd get us gifts), she wanted a pocket diary. So we both made our wishes known to our parents. I still remember the day vividly. She got exactly what she wanted. And what did I get? A toy helicopter that goes around in circles on the ground; the kind you give a 5 year old so he can chase it around. At that age, I felt disappointed. But did I let it known? Never...

All my life, I believed that I should put other people's happiness before my own. I believed that no matter how much it hurts and how many sacrifices I had to make, that in due time, God will repay me for my deeds. It was always my duty as a son.

At 18, I stopped receiving money from my parents. I enlisted into NS and on the measly pay of $300, I gave a third of it to my mother every month. And the hybrid pass I used to get to work everyday cost $120. That left me with $80 a month to spend on food and other necessities. I made ends meet.

When I got promoted to a sergeant, so did the amount for my mother. She now received $200. And that left me with a little more to spend on myself. For 6 years now, I have been giving money to my parents. Every year, I pay for their holidays overseas. And when I can, I help out with marketing expenses, expenses for the car etc.

This whole essay is not about money. It is about love. Because for the amount I put in, I surely do not see the returns I should be getting. In fact, I get verbal abuse almost every day. And it breaks me.

You don't even give me a chance to explain myself. As you walked away I heard you say, 'I don't have to believe you, I am your mother.' How do you think that makes me feel? You spite me for the sake of it. If you hate me the son you have brought up, then maybe you don't need a son. Maybe all those years of having to understand when the family had no money and I shouldn't ask for things I wanted and needed was for nothing. Maybe those years of having to grow up faster than my peers were wasted and I should have enjoyed my childhood more. Because you know what? I can't get back those years! I can't jolly well ask God to pay me back in terms of years lived! They're gone... moments that when put together made me age far beyond my years! When I lay down to sleep I WISHED they could return... but they never will...

If I mean nothing to you, then I shouldn't exist. Then maybe it is time for me to leave. And the best I can do is to wish you well and see you on your way.

Appeasement doesn't work. Neither does confrontation. Then I don't know what will. You know what?

You win.

I give up.