It's my first time to be here and I love this place. It is my personal statement on CommonApp. Please let me know what you feel, or think about, after reading it. If you give me some suggestions, that would be so great. Thank you for helping me!!!
It was 2:00 a.m. when I finished. I put my letter on the dresser and took a deep breath, praying it would help.
Mom was lying on the bed alone. It was the tenth day since Dad slammed the door and left home. Their argument started from a tiny point - the choice of my future college. Then it just broke out, like a volcano suddenly blew up.
I always hate my parents to do this. They are just grown-up kids. Mom is always jealous when Dad seems to care more about me, Dad always complains about being the only male who has to do all the labor work, and they always squabble about childish things.
They will figure it out in one or two days as usual. Just focus on your final exam. I comforted myself and tried to pay attention to books. But after several days I found I just could not. When lively evenings of banter among us three were replaced by my staying at home alone, I actually could not concentrate on studies. This situation was too unusual.
I took action to bring them back home together, hoping to prevent this embarrassing situation from distracting me. I learned to cook and ask them back for dinner, but they came home separately. I begged Dad to send me home, but when we arrived he just turned back without saying a word.
After so many frustrated tries, I almost gave up and got more and more angry with myself because I could not focus on study. I tried to find a way to chill out, and the first thing came to my mind was to go hiking with my family, which used to be a regular event when anyone of us became a bear with a sore head. Dad would say, "Let the randomness take you away." Mom would say, "Forget the job. It's family time!" And then we would stop working and hang out. I always told them it was a waste of time, but this time I yearned for the moment when we scream at the top of a mountain, and, more importantly, the moment when we laugh together.
All scenes of my family flashed through my mind. Yes, we are all kids who usually fight about little things, but we care about each other in our own way. We tease each other, but we trust everyone's big decision. We sometimes have a conflict, but we express our opinions frankly to give suggestions. In my family, there is no adults and teenagers but friends who help each other. It is really a sweet family, although we never say "I love you" to each other as a matter-of-fact, because we all know that truth.
Suddenly, I realized what my family means to me. It shows me what "love" is. Love means support, equality, sacrifice, and fights sometimes. My parents let me know how to speak out, how to embrace the world, and how to love and be loved. At that moment, I was sure what I really care about: not a perfect score, not any personal stuff, but my happy family. I decided to keep them from separating, because I knew as a part of my family I have the responsibility for its harmony. Oh, haven't I mentioned that? Love also means responsibility.
I jumped out of my bed to write the letter. It was time for me to say "I love you" to them and for them to say "I love you" to each other. They still loved each other as much as they loved our family, and the only thing they should do was to communicate. I was not a good writer, but that night I could not stop my speeding pen because of all the thoughts flooding into my brain.
"Now here it is." I murmured. All my love, all my hope, and all my cherished memories of we three, were shining under the moonlight.
It was the most dulcet sound when Dad knocked at the door two days later. Mom took several huge package of food and entered the kitchen with a silent smile. It was the quietest dinner we had ever had, but the most impressing one. They did not say a word but their faces softened, beaming shyly with secret joy. When Mom put Dad's favorite cola-chop into his bowl and Dad took out the pimiento which Mom hates, I almost burst into tears. I remembered nothing but cheered inside my heart, "They got it! I did it!"
I do not care how they settle the dispute, because nothing is more important than my family's reunion. And by the way, just now I heard them arguing secretly about who cried first when reading my letter. But this time, I grinned.
It was 2:00 a.m. when I finished. I put my letter on the dresser and took a deep breath, praying it would help.
Mom was lying on the bed alone. It was the tenth day since Dad slammed the door and left home. Their argument started from a tiny point - the choice of my future college. Then it just broke out, like a volcano suddenly blew up.
I always hate my parents to do this. They are just grown-up kids. Mom is always jealous when Dad seems to care more about me, Dad always complains about being the only male who has to do all the labor work, and they always squabble about childish things.
They will figure it out in one or two days as usual. Just focus on your final exam. I comforted myself and tried to pay attention to books. But after several days I found I just could not. When lively evenings of banter among us three were replaced by my staying at home alone, I actually could not concentrate on studies. This situation was too unusual.
I took action to bring them back home together, hoping to prevent this embarrassing situation from distracting me. I learned to cook and ask them back for dinner, but they came home separately. I begged Dad to send me home, but when we arrived he just turned back without saying a word.
After so many frustrated tries, I almost gave up and got more and more angry with myself because I could not focus on study. I tried to find a way to chill out, and the first thing came to my mind was to go hiking with my family, which used to be a regular event when anyone of us became a bear with a sore head. Dad would say, "Let the randomness take you away." Mom would say, "Forget the job. It's family time!" And then we would stop working and hang out. I always told them it was a waste of time, but this time I yearned for the moment when we scream at the top of a mountain, and, more importantly, the moment when we laugh together.
All scenes of my family flashed through my mind. Yes, we are all kids who usually fight about little things, but we care about each other in our own way. We tease each other, but we trust everyone's big decision. We sometimes have a conflict, but we express our opinions frankly to give suggestions. In my family, there is no adults and teenagers but friends who help each other. It is really a sweet family, although we never say "I love you" to each other as a matter-of-fact, because we all know that truth.
Suddenly, I realized what my family means to me. It shows me what "love" is. Love means support, equality, sacrifice, and fights sometimes. My parents let me know how to speak out, how to embrace the world, and how to love and be loved. At that moment, I was sure what I really care about: not a perfect score, not any personal stuff, but my happy family. I decided to keep them from separating, because I knew as a part of my family I have the responsibility for its harmony. Oh, haven't I mentioned that? Love also means responsibility.
I jumped out of my bed to write the letter. It was time for me to say "I love you" to them and for them to say "I love you" to each other. They still loved each other as much as they loved our family, and the only thing they should do was to communicate. I was not a good writer, but that night I could not stop my speeding pen because of all the thoughts flooding into my brain.
"Now here it is." I murmured. All my love, all my hope, and all my cherished memories of we three, were shining under the moonlight.
It was the most dulcet sound when Dad knocked at the door two days later. Mom took several huge package of food and entered the kitchen with a silent smile. It was the quietest dinner we had ever had, but the most impressing one. They did not say a word but their faces softened, beaming shyly with secret joy. When Mom put Dad's favorite cola-chop into his bowl and Dad took out the pimiento which Mom hates, I almost burst into tears. I remembered nothing but cheered inside my heart, "They got it! I did it!"
I do not care how they settle the dispute, because nothing is more important than my family's reunion. And by the way, just now I heard them arguing secretly about who cried first when reading my letter. But this time, I grinned.
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