I Love Her.

I didn't feel anything.

I kept waiting for the guilt, the remorse. But the feeling never came. Perhaps, I should be basking in the glory of triumph? But, I didn't feel victorious either. Instead, I just kept watching and laughing along as my favorite variety cast finished their missions.

It was ridiculously easy to push the whole incident to the back of my mind and keep acting as though it had never happened. That is, until the reality of it all caught up to me. I didn't feel anything. I was numb. Had I become a hollow shell of the person I supposedly am?

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe this is just how it's supposed to be. Maybe I just analyze too much. Maybe I should have had just let the memory slip away into the darkness until it was forgotten. But, it's too late now. The moment I realized my lack of reaction, I was done for. Doubt crept in. Guilt flooded my soul. But it is fear that reigns over my heart. Fear that came about because I. Felt. Nothing.

It was a huge argument. But every argument we have is huge. Still. I believe we provoked each other in the way that we always manage to do. It all went the way it usually does between us. She speaks her side. I defend myself. She disregards everything I say because, by birth, I will always be beneath her. I don't condone that notion and that will always be the barrier between us. She says her piece and believes that she has rightfully won. I speak up because I am an impetuous child who believes in respect for each other's opinion regardless of station. She thinks she wins by default. I think I win because of my impudent but totally logical defense. In the end, she leaves only to keep coming back to rain sermons about my manner of speech, my stance and my facial expressions.

The thing is, we love each other. We don't say it to each other. I can swear that she has never said those words to me before and I admit that I have only muttered them to her a handful of times. But, I know without a doubt that she loves me and that I love her. And, with that love comes my respect for her. I respect her even if she doesn't believe it. Love and respect are supposed to be universal languages. Except for us, apparently. I think it's because we have different understanding of the concept of love and respect. So, we have different expectations of how we should be to each other. And, we are two people who have difficulty with compromise. We stand rigid with our own principles and views of life.

So, in the end, she says I'm disrespectful, ungrateful and inconsiderate. I say, we have communication problems.

I love her. And we had an argument. And I felt nothing. Now, I feel scared like a child. Because, I'm not supposed to feel nothing. I'm scared because I don't want our constant disagreements and differences in opinions to change who I am. I don't want to be an empty husk, a shell. And, I'm scared. I'm scared. And, I'm suddenly sorry. Because I know that I hurt her. But I chose not to do anything about it. Because no matter how I deny it, I got hurt, too.

What have I become?

I've heard people say that no parent can ever win over their children. I've always snorted at them, half out of indignation, half out of envy. I never felt like she ever let me win. My mother is a strong, proud woman. And, it is very difficult, and often quite infuriating, to live with that kind of person. But then, I am as stubborn and proud as she is. And, so I must think that she finds me no less difficult and infuriating as I find her.

But all these analyses mean nothing. Because I know that, in the end, I will still choose to do nothing. Because I have already bent and bowed more times than I believed right. If I do it again, I'm afraid that I'll break. And, she... Well, she is a more rigid person than I am that bending is simply out of the question.

And, so we stand at an impasse. She'll lick her wounds and I'll lick mine. She'll eventually stop glaring at me and I'll continue to ignore my guilt, holding on to the fact that she hurt me, too. It's childish. On both sides. But I need time to forgive her for not being the kind of mother I expected. And I need time to forgive myself for being unable to be the child she wants me to be. And, we'll go back to our routine of saying barely five words to each other every day. Eventually, through the years, those five words might become a rarity even in a month. Or maybe we'll find a way to finally see each other in better light. But at the moment, I know that the best we can do is to tolerate each other. And, that is enough.

But, this thing I know. Between parent and child, there can be no winner. No side can walk away without a scar. No side can walk away without having to heave a heavy heart. I think that's what it means to be a family- to be bound by something that is thicker than water.

[NAME] was Here

Do you fear death? If you were to die this instance, would you be okay with it? Or would you beg for your life-for more time?

I watch a lot of action movies and one of the most recurring scenes is that of someone, despite their burly appearance, begging for their lives when placed at gunpoint. What is it that brings brave gang men to tears when placed in the brink of death? I used to think that it was due to cowardice and that I was better than them because I wouldn't beg. I would accept the fate given me.

I never understood it- the fear of death. Why be afraid of the inevitable? Why postpone something that would eventually have to pass? We would all have to die. It's the cycle of life. I understood and accepted this truth. But a few years into my life has made me realize that perhaps the act of begging for one's life isn't simply from cowardice or from want to continue living. It is from a sudden realization that comes only when faced with death. The realization that you're not yet ready.

I'm not talking about having unfinished business because we'll always have those. I'm not talking about having regrets because I've long realized the frailty of human life and have learned to live with as little regrets as possible. No, I'm talking about our need to feel eternal. And, before you say something, this isn't some misguided crusade for the search for the fountain of youth in an effort to evade death. I believe that eternal life is achieved only in the afterlife.

Legacy. That's the only way to put it in one word. Our complicated need to leave a mark on this world. A reassurance that we ever existed. Something that would continue to exist long after our body turns back to dust. We fear death because we realize that we haven't left a legacy yet. What is there to say that you were once alive in this world and you lived a true and meaningful life?

I often find myself staring into space and thinking of all the things I've done in my life. It is a short list for I have yet to truly live. But, it scares me to think that it seems as though I have yet to do anything that could build towards something worth being remembered for.

How about you? How have you fared so far?

Fear

What is your greatest fear? What are you most afraid of?

There are a lot to be frightened of in this world. Snakes. Spiders. Cockroaches. Ghosts. Killers. Death. Getting hurt. Falling. Heights. Failing. Stumbling. A lot. If one was to interview every single person on earth, I'm almost certain the list would include everything on earth. Because people are good at finding reasons to be scared of something. Of everything. People are good at finding excuses for limiting themselves.

And, that's what I'm scared of the most. That my fear in something insignificant would limit me. My greatest fear is fear, itself. Because fear, left unchecked, is crippling. Fear is what keeps you in your comfort zone. It boxes you in. It stops you from accomplishing things. It keeps you from being great!

It allows you to see your dreams come within reach but keeps you from actually getting it. Soon, it isn't only fear bearing down on you but regret, as well. Regret for not having courage. Hatred, directed at yourself, for not having been able to do anything. Hopelessness because you see no light at the end of the tunnel. In a bit, you'll be drowning in sorrow. And, all these is because of fear - fear in something you'll come to realize is insignificant.

That's just the way fear works. But, just who gave fear all this power? The answer is plain and simple. You.

Fear isn't actually bad. It's necessary. It reminds us that we're not untouched by death. It allows us to remember that we can get hurt. That we aren't invincible.

But, the moment we allow fear to enter our hearts, we allow it control over our lives. Because fear is not one to smile and mingle. It seizes the heart and all in it. It drains our courage, shoots down our ambition, beats our hope senseless, and tramples on our self confidence.

So, yes, fear is my greatest fear. But with this admission, I look fear in the eyes and laugh at it. Because I refuse to give it even a nanometer's space in my heart. I refuse to be brought down by my own doubts and hesitation. After all, fear is nothing without our own second thoughts and uncertainties.

Keep your fears close. Let it fuel you at your lowest. Let it remind you that you are human. But keep it far enough that it doesn't have access to your heart. Because there is greatness in each and every one of us. A greatness that is chained down and restrained by fear and doubt. A greatness that deserves to be seen.

We can all be great. We just need to stop our fears from hindering us.