Tonight the flood gate was opened.
A distant, sad memory was mentioned and I found myself lost in melancholy.
Some 17 years back, in this very house, two young but eager couple started out on their lives. They had a month-old baby girl, who was the epicenter of their dream.
But life was hard for the couple. The husband had just quit his job to pursue his dream of having his own business, while the wife just became the victim of the economic downturn. When other young ones their age was trying to live the dream that they had upon graduation, this couple had to face the difficulties of their own making.
No income, but big dreams.
The house was gloomy, and empty. It reeked of spores and dampness. It was dark, it had no life, it was bare.
The couple survived daily on curry puff, bought for 20 sen a piece, 5 pieces at a time. And that was it. That was breakfast, that was lunch, that was dinner.
Once the wife's mother came to visit and handed her RM50 to buy rice.
The wife was sad, but she stood by her husband and stood tall by his dreams. She stood tall of supporting his need to prove himself worthy, despite she herself could have run back to her parent's and escape the difficult life.
That distant memory, at that very instant, pricked me like a thousand needles.
Tears slowly welled up, and one drop made it thru.
It was a difficult time, which I chose to forget. It was a difficult time, which I chose to not use as a lesson in life. It was a difficult time, but none as difficult nor as complicated as it is now.