my sand castle of hate

The last memory I have of you is a blurred image of man building sand castles with me. I see myself going back and forth to the shore to get wet sand because that is easier to build. The sand would slip off my fingers slowly until I don’t have much sand when I put them into your big hands. I would do this over and over again but I never got tired. And then I saw how much you’ve already done, how big our sand castle is. You take a picture of it, hoping to keep the memory forever. I was only 6 then.

I’m already 23 and I can’t even remember how the sand felt in my hands maybe because I’ve touched and dug too many sands. I have built too many walls and created too many memories without looking back to who I really was. I already have the will to choose which memories to keep and erase. But the truth is I don’t want to forget those memories. I don’t want to forget the fulfillment I felt when we finished our sand castle. I don’t want to look at pictures and feel nothing.

I have built walls of hate and anger with the sand of my broken heart and tears from my eyes. But don’t worry, daddy. This is only a sand castle. The sea of your love will surely wash away my sand castle of hate.

posted by gail @ 4:43 PM