The Contrail

I was driving to work yesterday and a cloud of contrail formed across the sky. I remember as a kid, I used to point out every contrail that appeared above me, and it would become the highlight of the day. I would shake my mother's hand, and point my tiny finger excitedly to the sky, "Look, mom, a plane cloud !".

Things were so simple back then, at least in my world. It was filled with love, and perfection, and my naive worries were often quickly washed away by discovering a slug after the tropical rain. The ugliness of human nature were far from my knowledge. They were hidden from me intentionally by my parents. I often wish they would still do the same for me. But it seems like I am an adult now, so it becomes okay to tell me things, ugly things, disgusting things, disturbing things, things I actually still cannot handle well emotionally, at all.

And I have no escape, because I am an adult now, and I am supposed to share the burden that comes with it.

And I have no outlet. You say I sometimes tend to spiral down in negativity. But really, how am I supposed to strip off my sparkling beautiful shell, just to show you a big mess of deformed plot.

I miss those days when I genuinely believed love can be selfless. But it turns out that, when extreme situation calls, nobody can be selfless enough to place someone else's best interest above his/her own, nobody. I miss those days when I was ignorant.

I miss those days when I was the only one who made mistakes, silly little mistakes like dirtying my skirt with mud, or falling down and making a scar, mistakes where I would get a scolding, I would cry, and then things would be alright again. I miss mistakes that don't create a permanent consequence, a permanent shadow that never goes away.

I miss those days when happiness was so straightforward. It was singing Carpenters on a swing, it was riding bicycles down the slope. I miss those days when joy was purely joy, and was not tinted by the darkness that is forever settled in you, forever part of you - the kind of darkness that will sneak up to your thoughts and sink your heart when you are beaming lovingly at your loved one, the kind of darkness that will remind you of that deep deep sadness you have to carry around when you are enjoying a warm summer's day, the kind of darkness that visits your waking moment, forcing you to make a conscious effort to push away the weight, then start the day.

I miss those days when a simple contrail could light everything up, and another one, and another one.