The contract with the phone company, I terminated it. There is no point of continuing the line, the land line or cell. Pointless. I am content, buried in readings, french movies, and a lineup of TV comedies. Submerging in laughters and the beloving companionship, I think I have got everything now.
I went astray, then I came back. There he stood in front of me, there he walked away from me. My tearful eyes were soon swollen, but he wouldn't have the chance to see how much I had fallen. He would be eight and twenty; he was three and twenty; he will be in his thirties. Soon. And I will soon be as forgetful as I could not have imagined I'd be. My camera captured his smile and that's all I need. Eternal framed, timid smile, without showing any teeth.
Pills after pills, cough after cough, the dosage decreased when I finally got better. Everything is curable. Cancer is treatable nowadays. Life goes on and we walk on; the disparity of the passageways we have chosen proves how different we are. Some like it hot, some like it not. Some simply crave for simple life and calmness whereas others indulge in parties after parties without knowing the party/parties.
Exile takes form in segregation, in seclusion, in reclusion. I don't repent of my choice.
No matter what you are surrounded by, the people, the materialism, the noise, the white noise, the unknown fear and danger or thousands of split personalities or disfiguration of yourself, there is always the moment that you keep running back to yourself. The point of no return, is after all only a vanishing point of (part of) your past, another disfiguration you wish to do with smears, stains, et n'nimporte quoi you are trying to be rid of.
Running away is never a good solution. Sooner or later you will see. Somehow, there's a difference between running away and exile.
SK sent me a card at the end of the year, telling me that she missed me and updated her newfound life in Hong Kong. We were so bonded with each other, for she's not like her kind at all, for her dear temperament of calmness and modesty. We were both exiles, from our mothers, from the unpleasant past and to somewhere we hope to build everything new, Korea for her and Taiwan for me. But no matter where we go, we cannot evade mishaps in our lives. Sooner or later, we are forced to face the unbearable truth, the ubiquitous challenges at every corner on our way. SK survived that serious car accident, whereas S did not. My buddy S past away two days before his bday; my heart was rip into pieces upon hearing his accident. That was the first time I felt sick of the sight of snow, of ice and the slippery uncontrollable hazard attribute of winter here in the midwest. I thought of moving away, again, in three years (or in five?). Seriously consider about relocating. It was four in the morning that I found myself wide awake and sobbing involuntarily. When we last met, we took pictures of each other and headed for the commencement ceremony. He said he's actually staying on campus for a while after graduation because of the new job offer and I filled him in with my secretive decision of giving up the one and only admission. We were both broke. He's got a family to raise and I couldn't continue my study without funding. We were too proud, to ask money from family.
"You know, most Asian students that I know of get financial aids from family. At times, I get to feel that my students take everything for granted. They splurge out on fancy cars, brand clothings and party hard. I'd never want my son to grow up like those brats..." S rambled.
"Well, don't know about them, but I got to stay because of the money. Without the job offer, I couldn't have made it this far...I am sure Lucas is not going to be a brat; he has a descent father to look up to, y'know."
The end of the school year was usually the most difficult time for us, for we were not sure whether we'd befunded for the next school year. During that time, we would sip through a cup of coffee and ranted a bit, forming a support group, S, Marsh, Meg, HJ, Donnie and I. What I didn't tell them was that I actually turned down an assistantship so as to be away from where I have been living. That would have granted me for two full year support and I got to lay back on my own sack. I also did not tell anyone that I sat through the exam in my own puddle of blood, the consequence of a miscarriage, because that winter I did not have health insurance coverage, I couldn't have afforded that medical bill anyway. The result certainly compromised my chance with funding. After all, a fall is a fall.
S and I clicked because we were both nerdy: making trekkie avatars in second life, greeting each other with Vulcan salute, exchanging ideas about papers and upcoming conferences with our compartments of lunchbox scattered on my office desk. If only...if only I could see S one last time, I'd wish him "live long and prosper." In any way, that line somehow appeared to be too late, too sad and too ironic to what happened to my dear friend now.
The cramps, the bleeding, the setback and the dreadful loss of S, all added up like the hemorrhage turning me purple inside out. After all, I took it all in with quietude. I chose the less travelled path. It was the first gamble in my life. I was desperate and devastated, for a breakthrough from where I had been kept for years (or it was I that's keeping myself), and to disengage myself from those who took me for granted.
Meg said I seemed remote, but she didn't ask more. JB noticed the change in me, even quieter then I have been. My head was on verge of exploding with the thought of S's last moment, about the Japanese wife and little Lucas survived by him. It was as if I had to sit through the exam again, trembling all over, knowing that underneath I bled like hell and that taking breaks was no use at all. I felt all alone. From that cold exam room, I went on to another one. This time around, with JB. The warmth and moist of his hands revealed his anxiety, despite my assuring him that I was okay, the frown of pain caused by feet-long needles penetrating my body made him squeeze my left hand tight. I did not even bite my lips, but the tension between my brows had him tearful. I knew then that he might have comprehended what I had been through the past one thousand eight hundred and twenty five days.
A while ago, the family saga had me worked into a lather. Then the sudden decease of someone you care so dearly about made a lot of things seem to be bipolar; it's either pointless or priceless. Comparing the loss of the beloved ones, let's not make a big fuss about the bearable physical pain. Thus I reassure myself. This, too, shall pass. That bereavement, however, takes more time.
Not all because of S's death, but because of what's happening and what have happened. All compiled up and made me lost for words. It was not like I was unhappy, nor was I sulky. Articulations, speech and verbal expression have simply become redundant now. I simply realize that I need to be more reserved, restrained and even more low-keyed, skimping on words, particularly on words for socializing and meaningless communication.
SK would know what I am saying. She's like me. We strived so hard to keep a safe distance from our colleagues and department, from those intolerable gaggle of cliques; we tried so much to stay undetected by the radar. At least that's what we thought we were doing. Low-profile, that's what they characterized us. SK got the best hang of laying low, but I was barely evading the doppler, simply for the sake of the last thread of vanity -- I couldn't stand myself being sloppy, in terms of appearance.
I told SK that I was happy, with a cup of hot coacoa in my hand looking out to endless snowflakes falling peacefully and calmly. I did think of her, a lot. Like my thoughts were with S, with T, and with JB constantly. Come to think of it, we all live quiet lives: party-free, alcohol free and sleep-deprived; we are frugal with our words unless we are with the right person(s), and we avoid earthlings, small talks, chitchat and we dread nosy people and gossips. Like what Max left on my fb, "like attracts like."
Over the forest path, there was this small village. SK showed me the beauty of this small village. In that beautiful ray path of the setting sun reflected on her face, I heard a click of the shutter button from my camera. That's how I shall always remember SK, like I remember T and S.
It's like this, time goes by. Snow comes and goes, thoughts of the past and my loved ones come in and out of my head, like hay fever hacking my mind. My spring haze has thus arrived.
During the day, I work the job; the night, my own projects. My day can be summarized in less than three hundred words, literally, and I am pretty happy about it. For the sake of a simple life, I kept only a small circle of friends to retain my seclusive life; for the sake of serenity and the irreplaceable peace of mind, I choose to shut off all unnecessary voice or uninvited commentary telling me what to do and how to act; for freedom's sake, I choose to live this self-imposed departure, from anything that might have restrained my mind and drained my own elixir of hope and good vibe.