Chapter-7

I lived.

I lived, I lived through the love of a dreamer, I lived through a dream, I lived through the love of disagreement; I lived. Nera and I, we lived. The teenage years of pubescent, the years of love, the years of cold wrath, and warmth, four seasons with eternal frigid. We were having a daughter; I had always wished for a daughter. A beautiful girl, embodied on what I loved, her mother. Through life's changes, an unchanging hold of hand in this fast-paced world, My Nera, my youth, my heart, my love.

She had invited my parents for dinner at our house today. A family dinner of her broken family, her parents couldn’t come due to being away for work, same old same. My mother was delighted with the idea of seeing her once-in-blue-moon son who had turned her family blue, she couldn’t despise her only son, could she? She has the heart of a mother, that’s what Nera had told me. “Cielo, Now that we are going to be parents; it lightens my heart. We have lived life as individuals and one day our daughter will grow up in her own of a person, we cannot dictate her life yet the hurt and harm she has to live through burn my heart, and even if she hurts me, us, I cannot bring myself to think I would hate. If one thing I couldn’t give my daughter is my heart of hate.” And there I had grasped my chance of redemption. I never realized how much we had grown up and with this, I called my mom asking her to come; along with Dad. An apology as a father and a son was pending. I was nervous through the evening checking the doorbell ring, it’s not like they had never visited before, they always had come. My mother with a warm torn smile and my father, upset and cold. The overdue apology needed to be made, I wanted my father to be done, for his granddaughter and her father. “Cielo stop, it’s literally the 17th time you have checked with the doorbell is working. Do one thing, call the service and get it checked” Nera was nervous, wrecked sweating, and cooking my father’s favorite, again after years. She was annoyed yet wanted to ease me by making a joke. I picked up my phone and dialed. There was a call ringing. After a few rings, they picked up, and I spoke, “Mrs.Castillo service? Please check my doorbell for me.” Nera huffed a small breath, an annoyed smile, she was pleased, I could not see it however I know so “Mr.Cielo your doorbell is working as fine as an individual you are, please wait for it to ring and if you doubt it won’t; family can always come in without a ring” This is Nera, my Nera, she lived with me, she lived for me. She bury me. She looked out of the kitchen already, in her daisy dress and here my heart had burst again, I was falling in love all over again. She always knows what to say. Nera looked like an angel; she was a beautify of worlds and a glowing halo. In the back of my mind, this thought of guilt had scratched itself; Nera had blamed herself for the father and son feud, even though all she did was, make me see my eyes. She had no share of this sorrow that she had picked on herself. Before I could delve into that house forever, this time the doorbell rang. Nera rushed out of the kitchen and I came behind shouting out at her to be careful. We shared a nervous look and nodded confidence to each other before opening the door, Nera looked at me and smoothed my anxiety with “You bury me” and the ‘amount of heaviness died down and I opened the door.

I saw my parents—my mother, warm as usual, and my father. A pit of emotions swirled in me. I was happy, sad, numb, and dumb; I was just that 21-year-old boy again. Taking me well, Nera invited them with a mellow smile, squeezing my hand to comfort me. We sat down for dinner and it passed with a heavy silence in the air. We were afraid of each other and what had to come. I was whelmed with a vague sense of cowardice, I was frightened by the feeling, that it wouldn’t end well. Still, I want to dive in for the chance. I called out “Dad, can we please talk for a moment” She looked at me with cold eyes, distant; we were poles apart in the same room yet a feeling of fatherhood had bound us now. He nodded a response as yes, Nera had read the room and so did Mom. They left us to have the inevitable of fate. I was anxious and my ground of stability left me to deal with it alone. I made up my mind to be courageous and face it today “Dad, why is it so hard to forgive me? All I did was to choose what I had loved and I still do. I understand your reasoning, I understood your love and I still do but when is this going to end, it kills me. It kills me the same it had years ago.” He kept his silence intact, not an angry man today neither was. He kept looking at me with empty eyes and it welled my eyes “I am tired Dad, I am tired, nera is tired, Mom is tired. Why not you.” I paused and took a breath of courage “It’s a daughter, Dad, I am going to father a daughter, she is not here yet. I don’t know what I will do however what I know is that I will turn the world upside down or loped or ugly pink blue, or green if that makes her happy, my father thought that becoming a father was not how I could provide her comfort but how to keep her happy” I was chuckled “Comfort is easy to give father but happiness nips at everyone different, I will be a father and I will swear on heavens and earth I will protect her with everything yet I will do my best to keep her happy and let her live dreams. I will love her despite.” I was a mess, tears streaming down my face “As a father, I beg you to forgive your child to be brave and dream and live that dream. As a son, I am sorry dad, I am sorry for being the man you taught me to be.” I looked at his face, he looked some years younger and his eyes softened. He was again my father and I was his 21-year-old son again, his welling ever so he kept silent. My heart couldn’t bear it anymore and I stormed out of the house again like 21 year old.

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After that heated conversation with Dad, the 21-year-old dreamer stormed out of the house as his father denied his right to dream and had already laid out a future for his small dream with his welled eyes laced with disappointment, the same as 5 years before. I pulled the car out of the garage and drove off. Away, away from him, it gets heavy to forgive when every sight of him hurts. I was too fond of beaches; they were mock of the nature of extremes. Extremely dried sand with an incredible amount of salty water, and crashes of waves. It reminded me of myself, It made me not so fond of myself.

Tears were trickling down my cheeks, over and above it. I was worn out of this dog and wagging tail game of disagreement. My father was deliberately choosing to distress my dreams and happiness and like every other dreamer, it was clenching my heart. He was the best father I could ever ask for and it turned 360 in a flick. I didn’t despise him for it, even if I wanted to I could never do it. With a grip over the steering, I aimlessly drove to the beach road. Deja vu.

I pulled over the car on the side of the road and stared at the beach, it looked peaceful and serene. I wiped my tears and walked down to the vendor who was still there. He looked at me with sad eyes and said, “Hello” he paused sensing my despair, “Rough day?” my red eyes and puffed cheeks speak for themselves, He put in words again, “Take whatever you like, it’s on me.” And smiled. My failed attempt to hide my glossy eyes came into show and I nodded my thank you and picked a pack of cigarettes.

I went back to my car and stood by it, fiddled out the pack, and took one cigarette out, I maneuvered it in between my lips and took a puff of it in the hope it would covet my sobs and tears yet A scornful cry left me, my eyes turned watery and tears washed my face. I was standing there crying, my wind in a whirl I hated the fact that even with tears streaming down me, my heart was excusing my dad. Deep inside, it was me up against my love for Dad. With every thought treading my mind, I cried, my shoulders shaking with every puff of breath A bad newbie tried a cigarette for the very first time, and with every drag of it, I had a small cough itching in the back of my throat. It was the only thing keeping my thoughts to trample my sanity.

I had almost finished the pack. I threw the half cigarette; it wasn’t helping at all; this gray mist was enveloping my sorrow. I became the 21-year-old zesty new man again who ran out of the house like a coward, if only my father could trust me with my dream, I would still be his son and we would have been happy together.

In the distance, I heard a car pull over. I didn’t pay any heed to it and continued playing with the cigarettes I could mesh in the air. A honk was heard from the other side of the road, the road was empty for someone to honk sensible unless their brakes were failing or something like that. They honked again, I turned my head in their direction, and; It was my father standing with sorrow-filled eyes and open arms with a sorry small smile and his heart open. My world stopped, my heart skipped beats and I could hear or sense something. I ran, away from him, I ran so fast I could feel my heart burst. And it did burst, I took a turn and ran towards it, as fast as I could. I ran to him and hugged him as tight as I could still and all my father had his arms open and eyes horrid and pale. I looked at him and followed his eyes staring the terrific in the middle of the road. And my eyes widened, a nerving ending shock.