heavy, heavy, weight in your heart, after stressful day.

dad, "is everything okay?"

me, "yeah."

dad, "it doesn't sound okay?"

me, "no, no, it's fine."

long pause.

me, "i'm just never gonna get a grown up job, ever."

then your south east asian dad jumps to worrisome conclusions, and starts inquiring about your current part-time job, whether or not your financially secure, and starts reaching into his wallet pre-emptively.

me, "no, no, no.  that's just it.  i've got retail now, but i'm graduating in 3 weeks, and... yeah.  it's not a big deal, it's just... hard."

dad continues stirring curry on top of stove and is silent.  "oh," he says.  "well that's much more serious," he implies.  he begins to fear what he's previously experienced with his oldest daughter.  hoping for the best, but settling for their unfortunately reality, of prolonging years of retail.  this is why he says nothing, because from what he's seen in the past, he can't guarantee that i would be wrong.

this disappoints him, and i'm not sure if the disappointment lies in my own worth, or in the structures and standards of western, individualistic, "success."

i see this all occur within a single furrowed brow, say, "it's fine.  don't worry.  it'll be fine.  anyways," realizing that i've made my burdens, his.

i head straight to bed without dinner.

"sruti..." he tries.

but i'm asleep.