1 Fate

IT WAS SUPPOSED to be a date. Yes, a date. But every time my mother asked me to, I never really attended. No. Not even once. Like today. Instead of sitting in a fancy restaurant, smiling fakery, and uttering nonsensical, flowery words, I visited a monastery.

For me, dating the monastery is way better than dating a man who will never become part of your life. So, why bother? But my mother has a different thought. Despite my strong disagreement with her new obsession lately, she never ceased to look for a man to match with me.

I can't understand her, to be honest. I'm in my 25 years this year, and my mother acted like my life was about to end. What's with marriage and parents, anyway? I don't think I was born to marry. Born to die, maybe. But in the middle of it, I got to do the things I wanted to do. No one should stop me.

"Tatia."

I looked up and saw Mother Clemencia, the abbess of this monastery. She was kindly smiling. That smile didn't vanish until she sat in the empty space beside me.

"Abbess," I said while fanning myself. Today was scorching hot. Even the wind was hot. It wasn't helping me at all.

"Why don't you help out there?" Mother Clemencia asked, gesturing to those nuns and volunteers who were helping children or teaching them, maybe.

I shook my head in response. Sweats almost glided down my chin. It was sticky and disgusting.

"I'm not fond of kids. You know that, Mother Clemencia," I said.

"I know. But don't you think the children are cute and lovable?"

I stared at those kids. They were laughing, smiling, and playing. I admit they looked like what Mother Clemencia described them to be. But that didn't change my mind about not liking them. Those children were fun to look at until you were the one managing them. They were a disaster!

"I still think they're repulsive."

"Tatia," Mother Clemencia reprimanded, "Language!"

I pursed my lips in response. Lying was a sin, but once you told the truth and they disliked it, they still considered it a sin. This world was too complicated. How was it made?

Then I heard my companion sigh.

"What are you doing here, then?"

"Hey, hey," I said, offended, "Although I don't help much with managing your children, I always donate money and things that will help them. And it came from the bottom of my heart. No need to act as if I'm unwanted."

Children were not my thing. But I still empathised with them.

"I mean, the real reason you came here. Despite the intention of not helping teach the children. I don't have any meaning."

That still didn't sound right. Regardless, I answered.

"I'm escaping my mom's blind date for me. It's getting on my nerves, to be honest."

"You came here the last time for the same reason." Mother Clemencia couldn't help but notice. "Why don't you try going on that blind date?"

I almost showed a disgusted face, but I held myself in.

"Mother Clemencia," I said blankly, "I don't like men." I frowned when I realised the meaning of my words. Hence, I immediately changed it. "I haven't found the right man for me yet."

"How will you know your date's not the right man for you if you don't meet him?"

I reacted with contempt. "I saw the man's photo," I said. "I can tell he's not for me at a glance."

"You're judging him right away without even knowing him. Don't you think it's right to know him before deciding whether he's for you?"

"No," I answered firmly. "I don't like that, man. The same goes for those men before him. Anyway," I let out a deep breath, "I'm not yet ready for a relationship. Since I'm not, I won't accept anyone. I want to be with someone I will marry someday," I mumbled. "I don't want to take a relationship as a game."

I almost get emotional from that. Some people might take a test of the water to see if they were right for each other. However, I would rather be a single human being for the rest of my life than have a relationship with the wrong person.

Call me weird.

Call me odd.

No matter what, I would follow my heart's desire.

The day ends without any accidents happening. Aside from my mother's constant calling, which I obviously deliberately ignored, everything was perfect. When the time for us, the volunteers, to leave, Mother Clemencia ran to the exit and handed me a paper bag.

"What is this?" I asked, looking at the bag; but not peeking at what was inside.

"A little gift from the children," Mother Clemencia replied. "It's a thank-you gift for all the things you've done for them."

I blushed. I wasn't sure whether the abbess was sincere or sarcastic.

"No need," I managed to squeeze out. "I didn't help that much, anyway."

To my surprise, Mother Clemencia nodded. The corner of my mouth couldn't help but twitch.

"You're not good with handling kids," she said. "I understand why you don't want to be with them. Regardless, we still want to thank you. If not for your donations, the monastery wouldn't know what to do with the kids. We won't be able to sustain their needs, and they won't even experience any form of education."

My heart warmed up. For the first time this day, my lips formed a genuine smile.

"I'm happy to know that I could be of help."

Mother Clemencia smiled. The two of us talked for some time before I finally left.

Alright — this was it!

Every step seemed to be heavy. When our house was in sight, butterflies began to fly frantically in my stomach. Why was our house not in the Atlantic? Is it too late to change places now?

Slowly, I approached the front door. I held the doorknob for almost a minute before I finally had the guts to open it. Unsurprisingly, I saw my mother sitting on the couch, facing the television with her arms around her chest; and her brows knitted together.

However, despite my fear of being scolded, I managed to maintain a casual attitude.

"Are you done eating?" I asked, walking towards the kitchen.

"It's still five in the afternoon. We always eat at seven."

"Oh," I remarked, "I'll cook lasagna, then."

I don't know how to cook. But for the sake of being spared, I'll do it. Yet before I could start, my mother furiously entered the kitchen.

"Are you trying to burn my kitchen?" she asked angrily, snatching the pasta from my hands. "You didn't attend the blind date I set up for you, and you still have the audacity to burn my kitchen. How bold of you!"

"Mom," I said helplessly, leaning on the sink, "Can we stop with the blind date?" She glared, so I quickly added, "Please."

She harrumphed but didn't say a word. She continued working on the ingredients.

"I'm already old enough to look for a man myself," I said, "And blind dates aren't helpful at all. What if I suddenly encountered a stalker? Or worst — a murderer? Let me meet my man. Stop interfering with my love life."

"Do you think I want to?" she said, pointing the knife at me. Hopefully, she would remember that she was holding a knife and won't thwack me. "You're already 25—"

"25 is still young."

"--- And I still saw no man lurking around you," she said, glaring at me. "You're not getting younger, Tatia. Stop with those foolish standards of yours and settle down!"

"Hey, they're not foolish!

"Is looking for a virgin man not foolish?"

"No," I affirmed, "There are billions of people. It's impossible not to see anyone by my standards."

I would love to tell my mother about my longing for a single life if I didn't see a man by my standards, but she would only get vexed. Let's keep that notion to my heart first.

"And how are you going to meet all those billion people?"

I sighed. "Look, Mom," I said, "If I'm fated to marry, I'll marry. If not, whether you like it or not, I won't be getting married in this life. You can't force anything, so why not go with the flow?"

My mother didn't respond after that. Although her face expressed as if the world ended, I think she was compromising. That night, I slept well. It was the best sleep of my life. I didn't think it would also be my last.