my mother's son

a dew days ago, someone called me.

someone very familiar.

he called me,

asking how am i doing.

asking how's my collage.

and he congrate me happy birthday, which is a month late.

and he asked what was my bank account.

i was confused, didn't understand why he asked about my bank account.

when i asked him, he said

"so i can send you a birthday present "

"i don't know what to buy, so i'll just send you money and you can buy what you want"

"okay?"

i frozed.

somehow i felt something in my heart, it was pain.

then, i told him that i dont want his money, i said that mom and dad had gave me enough money.

suddenly, he got mad.

he yelled.

he mentioned something about me being ungratefull.

am i?

am i being ungratefull?

maybe i am.

i more appriciate a rain coat with  a label cheapest that my friends gave me as a birthday present, instead of some paper called money.

i never realize what kind of family we had been.

i remember a time when there was no present, when there was only a small cake, we bought the cheapest one from the supermarket. but there was also a family that blew the candle together.

"ungratefull i am", i said.

"i just dont want your money".

i said that to my mother's son.

then he hung up.