the stranger in the house

It was just a little over 9 o'clock in the evening, and I had just returned from another day out with my ever-loyal girlfriend, Anna who was helping me stay sane after the break up of my long-time boyfriend of five years.

I did not expect to have someone wait for my return, but there she was- the land-lady, opening the front door for me just as I walked up the driveway where Anna dropped me off. I felt a little bit guilty as I knew it was past her bedtime.

Her face was always blank. It was always hard to tell what she is thinking. Through the dim light of her front porch, I thought I saw her almost smiling, but I couldn't tell for certain.

"You ate dinner?" She asks.

I shook my head lightly. I had planned to, I thought to myself, but I ended up with my head in Anna's pillows drowning my tears again. There was not much space left for food.

She shook her head quietly, disapprovingly as she stepped back for me to enter the house. Her finger motioned for me to head into the dining room where it appeared that she had prepared a bowl of hot soup waiting for me.

I winced in guilt but took a seat at the table hastily. The landlady--or Aunt June --as I called her, gestured for me to eat. I could see her worried expression more clearly as she took a seat opposite me, shaking her head.

Many thoughts were playing in my head. Mostly thoughts of how incredibly lucky I am, despite the screaming, scrambling mess that was tearing into my emotional state at every second.

Only just a few weeks ago- I was nearly homeless, left behind by the love--wait, the former--love of my life who is now galivanting across the world with a new lover he had found while on an exchange program. To make matters worse, both our families were not happy with our relationship either, so I had no one to turn to, now that I have managed to sever all-important relationships I had...

Thank god for Aunt June.

Aunt June was the mother of my good friend Elle, whom was an only child and had gone to live in another city. 

I was welcomed home with warm food, warm bed, and... everything else I can think about that one should feel lucky for.

Non spoken communication between us was mostly the main interchange for the days I had taken shelter here yet it was strangely peaceful and calming. Exactly what I needed. Perhaps it was just my lack of Korean or her limited English, but after a week, it became an accepted norm. One of those things that just took over without thought.

She and I would just stay in the same space for hours, watch tv, read a book, watch DVDs and then say goodnight, and that would be it.

Aunt June clicked her tongue, interrupting my thoughts.
"Good?" She asks.

I nodded, taking more spoonfuls as she watched on.
Perhaps this is what I needed.

I was a mess. I was in pieces.

But I was lucky to have hot soup.

I was searching hard in my head wondering HOW this came to be?

How could I have not seen this was where I would end up? All these years of studying, travelling and living overseas. I was 29. Just recently completed my master's degree.

Yet homeless and broken.

"No worry, dear girl," Aunt June called out. "It will be alright. You will smile again soon enough. You will see."

I hadn't realised how wet my face was that the tears kept dropping into my soup. She came over and hugged me.

I hope she is right.

Sigh. Please let her be right.