[Other] Những Ngày Không Vui

ver219

And, Tate thought, who am I to say anything? I didn't treat her any better. I broke a promise, didn't even have the guts to break up with her.

I am convinced that most people do not grow up. We find parking spaces and honor our credit cards. We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry accumulation of years in our bodies and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are still innocent and shy as magnolias. We may act sophisticated and worldly but I believe we feel safest when we go inside ourselves and find home, a place where we belong and maybe the only place we really do.

ver219

And I think this is how I would most like to imagine romance, friends, or should I say lovers. In praise of all my body can and cannot do, I wish to figure out how it can best sing with all of yours for a moment in a room where the walls sweat. I wish to lock eyes across a dance floor from you while something our mothers sang in the kitchen plays over the speakers. I want us to find each other among the forest of writhing and make a deal.

Okay, lover. It is just us now. The only way out is through.

ver219

I'm going to have a reading chair that is so comfortable I can sit hours on end without hurting my back. I'll have a reading lamp that is bright just the right amount without hurting my eyes. I'll have a silent heater that doesn't scream when I turn it on in the middle of a winter night. I'm going to have someone to text good night to, treasure them as they appreciate me. I'mma have it one day.

ver219

"But like you said, there might be examples," Oshima continues, "of people becoming living spirits out of positive feelings of love. I just haven't done much research into the matter, I'm afraid. Maybe it happens. Love can rebuild the world, they say, so everything's possible when it comes to love."

"Have you ever been in love?" I ask.

He stares at me, taken aback. "What do you think? I'm not a starfish or a pepper tree. I'm a living, breathing human being. Of course I've been in love."

"That isn't what I mean," I say, blushing.

"I know," he says, and smiles at me gently.

ver219

When you carry around a suspicion that there's something sort of embarrassing or pathetic about you, you find ways to project that shame onto completely innocuous things. You find ways to tell yourself that everyone is laughing at you behind your back somewhere, possibly at a party where they are serving beautiful tasty drinks but you weren't invited. You're too old now. You're no longer exciting or important. You don't matter. You never really did.

Shame creates imaginary worlds inside your head. This haunted house you're creating is forged from your shame. No one else can see it, so you keep trying to describe it to them. You find ways to say, "You don't want any part of this mess. I'm mediocre, aging rapidly, and poor. Do yourself a favor and leave me behind." You want to be left behind, though. That way, no one bears witness to what you've become.

"You can be better than this," my shame whispers in my ears. "You need to try harder. You need to hide the scary things you carry around. you need to act like you've arrived, even though you're so inadequate and broken that you never will."

ver219

You care for me, but love another.

Kristen came to my apartment the other day. She'd said she needed my help with a project from work. I said sure come over, she said okay I'll come by this weekend. I was on my way home from the office when Kristen texted me. Hey, I'll bring over some food, don't eat just yet. I looked over the take away box on the passenger's seat. Great.

There was a coffee shop right at the corner that sat just five minute walk from where I lived. After I parked my car, I made a stop to get some drinks, Kristen liked pastries. Liz was working, she seemed happy to see me. I waved at her. Hey how're you doing, she asked. I'm okay, Paul's not here? She cocked her head to the side, oh yes, he left something for you, just one second. Then she ran off to the back.

I was browsing the shelves, picking something Kristen would like when Liz handed me a package. I handed her the food I bought. She cocked her head again in confusion. This is for you, I grinned. She let out a laugh.

It was almost winter and the air was piercing cold. A breeze came by once in a while, rippling through my trench coat. Kristen was waiting outside my place, she was smoking a cigarette. Aren't you cold, I asked as I punched in the passcode. It's the same. Your birthday. She threw the half smoked cig into a puddle of water and proceeded to follow me inside the house.

Kristen took off her coat, sat on the rug in the living room, and opened her laptop. You want to eat first? She asked. I wasn't feeling like eating because I'd just taken some meds and honestly I just wanted to get through with this and sleep but I said sure, let's eat. We were half way through our meal when I noticed a small suitcase at the door. She saw me looking and asked, you don't mind me staying here for the night right? I said nothing.

I was washing the dishes when I felt something brushing against my back. Kristen threw her arms around my waist and rested her chin on my shoulder. I stopped rinsing the plate, took off my gloves and dried them on the faucet.

"Kristen." - I said.

"Please, just... don't." - She mumbled.

I stood still. Her breathing into my neck itched my nerves. This was uncomfortable. I wanted out. All of sudden, I felt her tears wetting my shirt.

"I'm sorry." - She said. "I was wrong. Please forgive me." - And she cried.

I let out a subtle sigh and turned around. Kristen was very pretty. She was the girl every guy had to make a double take on the street. On the last day of high school, 18 year old Kristen tapped on my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek to say goodbye. She confessed she fell in love the moment she laid eyes on me. I never believed her. Kristen was pretty, but she was also... unstable. I knew Kristen when we were 6. She always pretended she didn't know about my existence and 12 years later, she said she liked me. How could anyone in their right mind believe that? Not that I hated her, I'd never hated anyone ever in my entire life. Not until that event happened.

"We should start working." - I walked away from her embrace and we never spoke about it again.

After I finished up the project, Kristen was already sleeping on the couch. I went out to the balcony for a smoke. Cold air filled my lungs, her words restarted my heart.

I did like her. I liked her a lot. I thought we had something special. She taught me how to get out of my comfort zone. She guided me out of my darkness. But she hurt me more than what she gave. I was belittled. I was betrayed. She had a fiancé and they were getting married. It was her making me a third wheel. It was her turning me into something I hated the most, a fucking second choice. I was desperate when I found out but I had to act like nothing happened. Because I loved her. I loved her and she broke my heart. She broke the only little life I had. My world crumpled in her tight fist. She broke up with me at 2am on Christmas day. She said, we should be friends. And I thought I would have a family with you.

I still remember the night I confronted her. We were sitting in her car, I was tired. I asked, is it true? I need the answer. I just need the closure I deserve. She sat quiet for a while and said, yes. Just one word. And I thought it was the end of the world. You're with me, and you told me you're getting married to another person? I could hear my cracking voice. I didn't feel like crying. I just felt like dying. The night ended. As well as my trust.

Two weeks prior to our breakup, she stopped initiating her love language. She was no longer holding my hand on the streets. She must be afraid that someone she knew would see us, I thought. She wouldn't text me if I didn't text her first. She basically cut me out of her life without letting me know. And I was foolish enough to not see all the signs she'd given. I was blinded by the new toy I'd got. My judgment was clouded by happy moments she created with me. I thought this was just a hiccup everyone who was in a relationship would have to go through. And so I kept my silence. And so I suffered in silence.

I was in denial when I said to myself I could still be friends with her. For old time's sake. That it was all misunderstanding, that she did have feelings for me. But I was lying to myself. I was pointlessly trying to pick up the ashes from an arson. Our bridge was burned, my trust was burned. And I still couldn't hate her. Did I get used to her presence that when she suddenly left, all that left was hollowness? There was a hole in my heart and only her warmth could fill. At least that was what I thought. I thought.

I tried to forget her of course. It worked for a while before Liz told me all the lies Kristen had told and all the dirty things she did behind my back. And I chose to ignore all of those. I did. I didn't blame Liz for letting me know, I was grateful that she told me for sure. But I had my own way of grieving. Don't get me wrong, I didn't regret meeting her. I was just grieving the loss of what was supposed to be the most treasured memories of my life. And I wanted to let the picture perfect that I had of my first love ingrained in my brain. Because this was a lesson I had to learn from. Because you showed me to see the good in evil. And this was how I would grow out of you.

ver219

fear of abandonment and instinct to self isolate

maybe I'm not bitter anymore. maybe I'm totally fine. but the wound is still fresh and I don't know if I ever get better.

this is not what I wanted in the first place.

Tsubaki. Tsubaki. Tsubaki. I miss you. I dreamt of you just last night when I was high as fuck. I wish you were here to listen to my crying. I wanted your embrace but you weren't here and never will be. Where in the process went wrong? Did you think of me from time to time? Did you hear my prayers for your salvation?

my god, what does it have to be so hard?

my god, what does it have to hurt this much?

ver219

Do I care? I shouldn't but I do. I did.
Does it matter? It doesn't. Not much anyway. But it did.

How come one can be so many and nothing at the same time?
How can one know everything at eight and nothing at twenty-five?

Who am I without your love?
Who am I without your touch?

What is it that I do wrong?
Whatever it is, I'm sorry.

ver219

The city hasn't been this dull for months. I am mourning the death of my love in the kitchen we built.

The morning light sneaks in through the opened window while I'm sitting at the dinning table sipping your favorite coffee. The car engine coming from the street reminds me of your usually early trip to the gym. I peel an orange and the mist blesses the air.

You're probably at someone's house doing things we used to do. For all the things I've done, making you love me was the hardest. I thought this was the beginning of something, you know. It was as if my life has turned to a different page. Because before you, I was just a coffee-stained old parchment stowed away in a forgotten pile of letters that never get to be sent.

I misplaced my trust, didn't I, in you?

ver219

I once fell for a guy.

\\

'part of you died along with him' , she says. 'that seems normal.'
'no, not part,' I say. 'all of me. everything about me leads back to him. if I cut out the poison, nothing will be left.'

it just that I fell in love with a war
nobody told me it ended
and it left a pearl in my head
and I roll it around
every night, just to watch it glow
every night, baby, that's where I go

how the absence of someone else feels like the absence of myself

and in the disbelief, I can't face reinvention

there must be a point where you're allowed to be defined by something other than what he did to you.