Is it really such a shameful thing to do? Is it wrong to say, “I can’t do this anymore; I’ve had enough,” and just let it all go? But what if we had no other choice? Do we soldier on and try to make the best of a bad situation, knowing that we’re just setting ourselves up for failure and disappointment, or do we raise our heads high, admit defeat, and start all over again?
I used to be absolutely determined to be on my own, build my own life, and depend on nobody but myself. But maybe because of the recent turn of events that have my parents suggesting more and more often that I go home to them, I’m beginning to be extremely tempted to just give up my whole life here, pack everything (well, just the clothes, bags and shoes) up, and go home. While the mere thought of going home and being taken care of again by the parents used to repulse and horrify me, it’s now looking rather appealing.
But then, no matter how strong the temptation is to go home, it pales to the galling thought of starting life from scratch again, and the overwhelming number of obligations that I have yet to fulfill here: the money I have yet to make and bring home, the people I have to care for, the life I could still have a chance to live. Am I willing to give up my freedom and my independence to go back to a life under constant scrutiny and criticism just because I’m facing a few hurdles that are taking a little longer than usual to overcome?
In the end, we all do what we have to. Whether it’s quitting the job that’s consuming every last breath in our body, moving halfway across the world to get away from the memories of that hideous relationship, or letting that certain person go because we know nothing can come out of hanging on to them, we do what’s given to us to do. Because we know that in time, we will heal, and we know that at least we tried, and at least we could stop ourselves just in time to say, “Enough is enough.”