Of Making Mistakes

“Mm…” I murmured.
“Mm,” he said. “Are you getting irate?”
“No,” I said.
“Mm means I’m thinking and that I’m not trying to assume anything.”
“Yeah right” he said. “You are always correct master.”
“You can just imagine how difficult it is for me to be wrong,” I sighed.
“Everyone seems to expect that I’d always do the right thing.
And it weighs down on me like a bag of cement –
It’s like my mother all over again…
No offence, I love her.”
I added a smile.
“You’ll better be a nun to justify your rightness,” he laughed.
“No. I’d run away from all of you. And I’ll go as far away as I can.” I said.
“To a place where nobody knows me -
Then I could be who I want to be.
And I could make mistakes all I want and nobody would care.”
Silence.
Inside me words are ringing like resounding bells:
Because I’m not hurting anybody but myself when I make mistakes…
And I can choose to either learn from all those mistakes or not.
I don’t care if I’d keep running –
Because at least it’s all up to me now…
I make the mistakes –
I make the choices.
I hurt nobody but myself.
I was silent.
“What is this, some kind of a drama?” he said. “I don’t think that way.
If you want to make mistakes go ahead and do them.
You will not get anything by following other people.
You shouldn’t listen to what other people say.”
Drama? I asked myself. Did it ever occur to him that I am just stating a fact so long been held –
How could people assume when they do not have the right to do so?
Instead I said, “I’m doing my best.”
I tried to smile again, although the action almost hurt.
“That is not enough,” he said.
I wanted to laugh.
When was my effort ever enough?
I don’t expect him to understand – I don’t understand it myself.
People say, do whatever you want –
Don’t let other people tell you what to do –
And I do that –
But, the same people who told me to do exactly what I want are the very same people who tell me that I am not doing it right.
But hey, no worries –
When the pressure becomes too much –
I can always run…
Cy05.28.06