life

Between Worlds

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Noise runs relentlessly through my head, and I ask myself: how many lives have I ever touched, what grand or minute marks will I leave on this earth?

A few days ago I heard what sounded like my father’s voice. He mumbled a single syllable straight into my ear, and it sounded like a “yeh” or an “eh,” but it echoed deep and long enough for me to register that it was him. I turned around quickly, thinking in silence, who snuck into my apartment? Of course, there was no one—not behind me in the kitchen and not anywhere in the apartment. His voice was so surely alive for less than a second, such a small time frame that will easily make one question one’s sanity. But, clearly that voice was neither invented nor a projection of grief. The elements of awe and fear would not exist if it had not actually happened. 

My father and I were different on the surface yet identical on deeper levels. We shared a common difficulty in showing emotion and easily becoming frustrated. Snappy remarks and petty pet peeves were the norm. Whether I learned to be like him or biologically inherited such characteristics, I’ll never know.  No matter how bumpy the road and how ever many roadblocks, his path and mine are naturally intertwined from start to finish. Hearing his voice was a reminder that the finish line is ambiguous as we will cross paths again. 

Happy Endings

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I once shed light to the darker spaces of my mind; I shared intimacies and opened my heart blindly. Enemies of my friends were too, my enemies. External factors became my very own. Perceptions and opinions clouded me, influenced me. Foolishly seeking acceptance, I cut ends before attempting to untie them. I have seen from every angle there is to see; I have been within and without; I have been on the outside looking in, and have formed part of every phase possible. Although some positions are more powerful than others, the tables always turn and the cycles, like seasons, are forever changing.

The day before yesterday, I learned an important lesson yet again, connected to the meaning of naiveté. People—with the exception of a few—aren’t willing to simply lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on; they are merely vultures preying on one’s hardships, one’s downfalls. They rejoice at one’s misery; they listen not to care, but to savor the tragedy. They spread false information; they contaminate others with misrepresentations of the truth. In the process, they fail to measure the reach of their tongues, the poison in their hearts.

Yesterday, I felt an immense repugnance—rumors, betrayals, lies, childishness, gossip, and drama—people speak it, eat it, and then vomit it into others’ mouths and ears. To say I was disgusted and nauseated is an understatement. I wished nothing more but to expel these toxins and breathe fresh air.

I asked God, and he listened. I stopped lingering on the different possibilities, versions, and outcomes.

Today I feel at peace. Nothing is dark or muddy. I owe nothing, and nothing is owed to me.

Tomorrow is the beginning of a fresh start. To happy endings.

Drive.

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Grieving in his name has taught me that in the end of it all, people always leave. No matter who is there for you to fall back on and despite of whatever kind words are whispered into your ear, it is ultimately your own responsibility to bounce back and pick yourself up. People always leave. Sooner than later you are left to fend for yourself, to lift your own spirits and peddle forward.

You can hang onto someone—cling onto him like no other—in hopes that they don’t ever let go. Yet deep down you know he let go a long time ago. This time around was only courtesy and compassion, and you recognize it’s only momentary before he lets go for good. You try to tell yourself that day is nowhere near, that it will probably never come, but deep down and in your heart of hearts you already know the answer.

You begin asking why you allowed yourself to get this far, why you knocked on a door that was already shut. It’s too late now for questions and blame. You find yourself doing corny yet sweet things, only to drive back home in silence. You and your heart are officially dumb.