When she deprived me of her voice
Her silence was a lesson for me.
Last couple of weeks were an emotional torture for me. After my grandmother read about my risky drug and sex adventure in San Francisco, she stopped talking to me. Everyone can abandon me, but please not my grandmother. She is my daily sunshine, my siesta rest, my alarm clock, my calorie counter, my evening prayer, my midnight dream. Her call completes my day. When we talk on the phone, in my mind, I could see her wrinkled ears listening to my woes intently and her lips uncurled by years whispering me wisdom. I would rather become deaf than be deprived of her sweet, melodious voice.
Without hearing her voice for weeks felt like I died or she did. My heart was so heavy. My mind haunted me with guilt and regret. My body was numb. I craved no sex or sensual affection. My libido was zero. I was so alone and lonely. I did not go out. I shut my phone off. I lost my appetite. I was so spiritless to venture outside and walk on the earth that felt hard and painful on my Manolo's. The world was dark through my Cartier eyeglasses. Wine tasted like venigar. Everything I had was stale and bitter. Only Diet Coke and energy bars made me survive, and hope.
Mine was a feeling of being forsaken. If it was what Jesus Christ felt, He must have died on the cross a lonely man. I condemned myself for letting my wordly curiosities and peer pressure overcome my sound reasoning and self-control. It was a pity that I lost self-respect. I will never let a guy, hot or not, play me again. Yes, as what I promised to my grandmother, no more drugs. I already experienced a week of sex, booze, drugs, and rock n' roll. I do not intend to do it again. I have been there. I was miserable.
I was ready to give up everything just to hear my grandmother's comforting voice again. I was glad when she called yesterday and ended her sulking. I was also glad that she made me feel what it is like to be left in the dark alone by a loved one because I am wrong.