Neighbourly love

16/12/2007

It is nice to be missed. Sometimes, though, one gets a surprise and the people who missed you most, are those who you always thought never really cared about you in any case.

The other sad realisation is when you consider, with a shock, that the people who were supposed to care about you and miss you, don’t.

I experienced these strange feelings when I paid a visit to my parents’ house. I don’t go there very often, yesterday was just one of those days and I needed to be in good company: my two sisters, the new baby and my mom and dad.

My neighbours were all over me! I always knew they loved me, I just didn’t know how much, I suppose. It warms one’s heart, actually, to see how much they care.

This is in stark contrast to a couple of weeks back when I saw family members from my mom’s side. They could not have cared less about my presence. Could it be that our neighbours (for those of us who actually know our neighbours) know more about us, and care more about us than our own family?

This is one of the reasons why I want to get to know my neighbours here where I stay. I guess all I really want, is to feel wanted and needed. And not just in a sexual way. I feel out of touch with those around me, partly cause I don’t know them. I want to be able to ask the guy next door if he can spare me some sugar when I run out. I want him to come knocking on my door next time he needs an egg, or two.

I will not promise anything, but I will try, henceforth, to get to know my neighbours, though I stay in a flat. It will be difficult, that I can promise you, but I daresay it’d be worth it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s