Highway to Happy

I have always been good with words. A friend once said I know exactly what one has to hear to uplift his/ her spirit. Generally, he’s correct; thought there is one exception.

Whenever Keng starts talking about his dad, I automatically become speechless. It feels like my brain shutdowns and rejects everything he’s saying. It’s not that I don’t want to listen. I do listen; actually, I just listen.

Sometimes, I know he prefers that I stay quiet. Other times, it’s noticeable in his eyes that he’s waiting for my reaction. Those days, I fail to deliver.

Like I said, it’s not that I don’t want him talking about his dad, though most parts of the conversions are sad and painful. His willingness to unearth those buried heartaches shows how much he has let me in. I never take for granted a second of those moments when he lets his guard down to talk about the past, whether with a blank stare or with tears in his eyes. Although his actions show he knows that, I’m still scared that he might think I’m not interested because I rarely say anything.

I can’t seem to find the words to say to make it even just a little more bearable for him. Perhaps, it’s because a painful loss has never been part of my life. Years have passed, but contrary to what most people believe in, the cut in his heart just grows deeper. I see it in his eyes; I hear it from the crack in his voice.

From deep inside my heart of hearts, I want to dig up the right words to bring back that glow in his eyes. But in every attempt, I just come up with three words.

I hope I love you is enough. I hope my I love yous will always be enough.

# posted by Liana : 2:41 AM