MIXED EMOTIONS...AGAIN... in THE REALITY SOAP: AFTER DAD'S FUNERAL

I’d never expected that I’d be experiencing these mixed emotions again soon. Way too soon, I think, but it’s unavoidable. There’s no turning back now, so I won’t. Life is short and full of surprises too.

            After my sudden meltdown two Saturdays ago, Tony B. switched my classes with Handra’s. It’s going to be all teens’ classes for me for a while – and it’s okay. I thanked him again last Tuesday night after work and he only smiled and gave me a big hug as always.

            “Nah, I thank you.”

            Very well, then. Honestly, I felt relieved.

            I attended the writers’ club last Wednesday night. (My new, more recent after-work regular activity – suggested by my friend Michele.) “Pride” was the theme of the night and I ended up writing about Dad and reading it aloud. A lot of them had thought it was good, but also very sad. (I’d almost made Jill cry – because before everyone turned up for the meeting, she and I had got there first and shared our stories.) Hariz looked a bit startled when he was told that it wasn’t a fiction.

            Oh, well. Once again, that’s life. That’s all there is to it.

            I’ve always liked Craig, the head of the marketing team from the central office. He’s a nice lad, inside and out. He’s also a proud, loving family man. (He’s married and has a daughter.) He’s very funny and laid-back too.

            That’s why I’d nearly cried in front of him when we said goodbye and he wished me luck. He kissed my cheek the way Tony B. often does, warm and fatherly. I told him I’d already offered the team my service in freelance, article/content writing.

            “Thank you.” Craig smiled and winked at me. After he left, I had to escape into the pantry alone to cry. I actually don’t want to leave them, but I know I just can’t stay there any longer. I’d go crazy. It’s not really them; it’s me. I need to be (set?) free.

            Oh, well. This is life.

            I’d finally got to see D. one last time on Friday night after work. He’d been busy packing when I texted him from outside the building. (No, I’m not the type who will simply stand in front of a guy’s apartment and ask to be invited in, even if he’s my best friend. I’m old-fashioned that way.)

            Then he came out with that familiarly dazzling smile on his sweet, handsome face. We hugged, we talked, and we had dinner somewhere nearby. I handed him the farewell gift I’d made especially for him and thank God he liked it so much. It was nothing fancy nor costly, just something I’d made myself. It was a booklet of comic strips I’d drawn and some poems I wrote. That was all.

            Basically, I just wanted him to know how I’ve seen him and will always remember him. He’s actually a real sweetheart to me. No matter how much he has annoyed me in the past, I just can never stay mad at him. He’s been around to cheer me up too, especially after Dad died.

            Anyway, I’m glad that I’ve finally said all those things I needed to say to D. We’ll be staying in touch, of course. (Thank God for the internet!) I’m surely going to miss him so much, my ‘crazy, baby-brotherly best friend’, but I’ve got to move on too...

            R.