Almost

“Look at all the stuff in here!” she muttered to no one but herself in particular.

It was that time of the year again. The yearly cleaning of the house, the holidays, the big holiday actually: Dashain.

She took another look around the closet and sighed. This would take a while.

“Better get started” she grabbed one of the boxes. A whiff of dust flew in her face. The weight of the box shamelessly revealed to her that it was her old winter clothes.

“Perhaps I can find something in here that I could use this year,” she said cheerfully. She did this usually; talked to herself, whether someone was around or not. It calmed her down, ate the silence, or maybe it was just an old habit.

She hummed to herself as she heaved down the boxes, sorting them, and dusting through them. A box rattled as she lifted.

“Certainly doesn’t sound like clothes or curtains”, she thought. She took a peek into the box: old books, photo frames, candle stands. Something stuck out from one of those books. She pulled at the end. It turned out to be an old photograph. She smiled at the sight of the photo: a group shot from her younger days.

“It’s been ages!” she cried out. And then her eyes set upon that familiar face from all the familiar faces in the photo; the face that had felt like home on a rainy day.

And just like that, it all came back to her, like the waves rushing in to the shore. She could hear the conversation in her head, as if it were yesterday.

“Please”, she said, gripping the phone, “Please, just give it a try.”

“You know I can’t”, came the answer on the other end.

“What about us? Are you just willing to let me go? What about me?” she demanded. Her cheeks hot with anger.

“You know I don’t mean that”.

“What do you mean then?” Her lips quivering now.

“I don’t know.”

“I can’t wait around for your ‘I don’t know’. You know that.”

“Then don’t.”

“What?” Silence on both the ends.  

She took a deep breath. “Please, just talk to your family once. I’m sure they will understand.”

“I…………………”He trailed off. There was a pregnant pause, but no ending.

“You will, right?” She held on.

“I have to go. We’ll talk later about this.” The line went dead.

Almost: the most painful word in the English dictionary; quite there, but not yet; good, but not good enough. They had ‘almost’ made it, but didn’t. 5 years of togetherness; 5 years of memories; 5 years of commitment and his family brushed it off as she was almost good enough for him, but not quite. He could do better.

She had cried herself to sleep that night. Tired of being the one to hold on, tired of being the only one to try, and tired of questioning herself: what in fact, was not good enough about her?  But with dawn, she had come to a decision: she would move on. She would do what is right for her. She would go with what and who her family would decide for her. She would no longer wait only to hear “I don’t know”.

“Mommy!”

 She broke up with her thoughts.

“Mommy! I’m home”, the shrill voice rang out through the house again.

She quickly put the photo away and dabbed at the corner of her eye.

“Mommy? Where are you? I’m hungry!” the little voice called again.

A head with bouncing curls poked into the closet. “Mommy, what are you doing?”

She smiled at her daughter’s face. She had made the right decision.