Letters, Strings and All IV

So here, Letter No. 4.

Dear Love,

You would think I ought to be stronger than all this. That I could get on with life. It could be fun. It could still become something that I want. But no. YOU're all I want. Do you even understand the extent and gravity I want you? Do you know the kind of emotions that you have invoked in me, such raw and animalistic emotions that had lay dormant for the last years? I am like a bursting flame, and you, my oxygen and catalyst, my every reason. I feel I could take the whole world down. I could fly, I could do whatever the fuck I want. I could take Donnie down, with just a finger. But I lost that. All of it, when you're all slipped out. When I pushed you away.

I sneaked up behind you last night. Or at least I tried. I don't do very good with works like this, not with the stealth. You didn't see me at all but I saw you all right. That face, that has embedded so deeply in my brain...that forlorn expression you wore, head down. I thought you looked skinnier and my heart hurts at the sight. I wanted to rush towards you, to take you back in. To just walk right up, to hell with principles and what's right, to look into your eyes, just one more time. But it's not time yet. It's not even about me or what I would do or say. It's about you. It's about your life. Do you wanna do it well, or do you wanna fuck it up, like your mom and everyone else think you would? I'm sorry that they couldn't see you shine, like I do every night. They never had that honor and pleasure. They could not change the color of their eyes. But you can. You can change yourself for the better. I've seen you at your best. So forgive me, love. This hurts just as much for me, if not more.

liebe Ich Sie immer und mein Herz gehört nur Ihnen und sonst niemandem

Liebe,
Liesl

25 März 2002

Letters, Strings and All III

Dear Love,
I miss you and the first time I touched you, the first conversation we had in between the rows of shelves, the way I found you dozing off in the couch at the coffee house waiting for me to knock off, the sound of your voice, the way you kiss, the taste of you, the sound you made when you have finally fallen deep into sleep, your heartbeat as I laid and listened each night, faithfully, the way you cried, and the strong front you tried to put up when you're hurting inside...there is so much of you that I crave for right now. Yet we are so apart and I know, that it was me who drew the line, who broke us up but I wish you know it was only for your best, that I did what I did. You know that I love you, that I would forever, and ever and ever do. I could never leave you, not even for a second, let alone days.

I miss the good times we had, how I could always recognize the sound of my bedroom door opening up just slightly for you to peek your head in to check if I was around when everyday, you knew in your heart that you would always find me, just waiting, waiting for you, for us to come together again. There were times I thought I could maybe hide under my bed or something so you wouldn't find me. I wanted to see the worried expression on your face because I know it would be for me and me alone. But I couldn't. I couldn't bear to see you worried or sad, even for fun. I miss the quiet nights in the park where I could lay in your arms and watch the night sky dazzled with stars so far away and you would just be watching me, smiling. As if you would be contented, living just like this forever.

I miss deliberately being a step behind you so I could reach for your outstretched hand when you stopped, the one that would keep me warm for the rest of my life and knowing you had a smile on your face, one with anticipation, reassurance and contentment.

liebe Ich Sie immer und mein Herz gehört nur Ihnen und sonst niemandem
I love you always and my heart belongs to only you and no one else

Liebe,
Liesl
24 März 2002

Letters, Strings and All II

Dear Love,
6th day and I wish my heart would stop counting but just as naturally the heart beats, my heart yearns for your rightful return, to be at my side, to be in my embrace, in our single-sized bed, making out between these cozy, warm sheets and waking Lex up. Do you miss it, all of this, the way I do, even if I'm sitting at the edge of our bed right now, noting the day's journey and my feelings? I wish you were here, with your head plastered with a silly grin and affectionate brown eyes supported by your elbow, lying vertically, just watching my every move and then so absently, reaching out to stroke my hair, pulling a stray strand back behind my ear and then plant a soft kiss on my lips. Have I ever told you how much I love you when you do that? God, this self-control thing...it's beyond me! I have no understanding how anyone could be separated from their loved one for ever so long! How should anyone deal with that kind of loss and pain?

It was another day at work as I woke up without the taste of your strawberry lips in my mouth and my tongue. And I think Lex was trying to tell me about this new colleague at work but my heart was elsewhere. When I finally got to work, Daniel, this irregular guy who turned up out of nowhere, 'bout 17 of age and 5 ft tall, and the classic black rimmed glasses that suddenly is revived that seemed to always be on the tip of his nose, he tried to ask me out, for like the millionth time. Said he wanted to hang out and how he would serenade me with his secondhand guitar and the voice of a childish man. I rejected him of course, as politely as one could being stuck and ambused just outside the ladies by a boy who I'm sure couldn't tell full-grown breasts of a woman to that of a milking cow. OK, was that too harsh? But I could care less. All I could think about all day, was for work to be done with and for you to come to mind. How was your day? How was your heart?

liebe Ich Sie immer und mein Herz gehört nur Ihnen und sonst niemandem
I love you always and my heart belongs to only you and no one else
Liebe,
Liesl
23 März 2002

Letters, Strings and All

Letters, you wrote and did not post
Just tied up with simple strings and put on hold
Stashed away in some drawers like a ghost
But ghosts were never to haunt alone

Thin sheets of paper, your handwriting scrawled
Words, every letter, each vowel
Like a bullet
What’s eviscerated, they formed my beating heart, like a boat

Half awake I am woke
By nightmares I wouldn’t know
If this is real or just a fog
If this is coming over me, or just a long walk

Letters you wrote, and cried for
Post-ins, tiny scribbling on my imaginary wall
Like a stabbed wound, it gushed loudly my blood
That is my heart

Half awake I am woke
By nightmares I wouldn’t know
If this is real or just a fog
If this is coming over me, or just a long walk

Into the cold, into the cracks and broken glass
To fuck up what is left and what is us
To let go

Half awake I am woke
By nightmares I wouldn’t know
If this is real or just a fog
If this is coming over me, or just a long walk

How long can a person stare at a bundle of unopened letters, sitting on her table, for the last weeks, all immaculately tied up with strings? How does one loosen those strings, to muster courage from a non-existent source within? The handwriting, undisputedly hers and she were undisputedly mine and ours. It was written under the softest circumstances, despite what was possibly going on inside of her. “For you and you only, love” I traced the dried ink with my fingertips, like I might be, on her tombstone, half-expecting it to suddenly burst into flames. It didn’t, of course, for I’ve lost that ability and it stayed intact, like a quiet structure or a dam just before a flood would come. Or a gorgeous piece of sky just before it’s about to rain on you and taint your every fiber. My heart was pounding fast, like I was diffusing a fucking bomb or the likes, and my hands, I swear to God, I have not smoked a single bloody stick of cigarette my short life, were trembling. I’ve come up with solutions or an easy way out my whole life to avoid this exact situation but here I am and I know that for some reasons, I have to do this. Whether it is for myself, for her or for our love.

I held on to the first letter, dated 22nd of March 2002 and turned it, like some idiot hoping to see a return address when I knew fairly certain there isn’t gonna be one. It was from her heart, every word and punctuations.

The first letter goes like this:

“Dear Love,
I’ve not called you that for a while and I can only tell you how much it’s killing me. I didn’t expect this to be this hard. I mean, I’ve thought I’ve seen it all, you know? Today’s the 5th day that we are broken up and how you took off and nearly got knocked down by an incoming vehicle at the traffic light. I thought I was gonna die when I heard the sudden screech. And it was the very first time in our lives that I’ve seen you lost a temper. You were tugging at the collar of this poor man but you weren’t obviously strong enough to lift him up or do anything further. And I watched, standing afar, hidden by the shadows but I could still clearly see, as your face quickly softened and so screwed up with repentance and guilt and how you wiped your tears defiantly with the back of your hand, for this could never be you, the angry, irrational you, though I love every inch. You didn’t notice me when I walked the other end, back into the park, back into a lonely room and an even colder bed so I could cry.”

The letters were all dated randomly, but all written from the same heart. Perhaps I would write them in here when I have the chance, in a series so I could archive it better. I remembered what I was feeling inside, when I finished the first letter. It was subtle at first, like a slow stream and then the waves and tides came; explosive, emotional surges (see now it’s high time that dam metaphor comes in :P), threatening to drown me, flip me over and then tear me up in pieces. I felt like an aquarium waiting to explode, metaphorically and literally. I recalled my bitter fight with my tears, and anger, and the pain of missing a person this fucking badly, something I really hope no one has to go through. Hey, I’m all new to this, mind you but then again, it kinda always felt like that whenever I would think about her. And to be honest, I’m really tired of it. I wanna think about her and our good times and how all of that would translate to what I am and what I am doing right now, at this time, at this moment, and the next. I wanna think about her and feel a genuine smile just creeping at the corner. I don’t wanna fight anymore, not with myself, and to taint and contaminate her memory. You were a goddess in my heart then and you should remain as so now.

That next morning, I woke up, feeling as if a brick wall was lifted away off me. It was kinda scary, nothing I was expecting at all and I grappled to come to terms. It felt so real, like I’ve given up an enormous part of me along with that battle I called off for good the night before. I have no clue what a recovering alcoholic or drug addict feels but this is probably it. Or close. Like a new lease of life, so confusing, blurry, and full of blinding lights. I became upset when I couldn’t master it. I didn’t know the next thing to being happy or freed, or how to interact with another thing or person without having you crossed my mind and fry my brain. I was struggling, as if without the most God-given natural ability to be well, happy. I’m sure she would laugh her head if she knew.

Last night, at 4 in the morning, I tried to say something that could communicate what I felt and the emotions and habits that I still sort of struggle with. Nothing proud came out of it the first time. And I’m resisting the temptation of blaming the end of the battle my very reason why I am so uninspired now. I can’t write shit and I can’t lose the ability to write and communicate what I feel cause’ then I might have to die. And I believe it’s not time yet. Anyway, here it is, laugh if you must but you know what’s more helpful, leave a comment and tell me what you feel when you finished reading it. It will really lend a hand and I could do the necessary editing. I’ll post the 2nd letter the next entry. Maybe.

Hey Mom!

i'm trying so hard not to lie
because i love you and i cannot speak of it
because you are why i am here, at all
because you're my mother.
yet there is an ocean between us
nothing like a river, that could be crossed easily
it's vast, it's dangerous, it's everything on the line here
and in which most of it, you have given me.

will you ever forgive me?
see with your eyes, who your daughter truly is
listen with your ears, when i explain myself and not cry
and touch me with your hands, that everything is ok and that nothing has changed
not too much anyway.

was i part of your plan, the child you wanted?
were the seemingly endless days when you carried me worth it?
or have i just ruin everything, dashed your dreams because you tell yourself it's not worth it?
there must be a list of things you rather be doing
than sitting with me, and my broken arm when i was a kid
you would probably be working.
who am i kidding?
you were always working
for me, and my brother, the family

you have raised me right, mom
equally flawed as i could be right
and you have raised me never to lie,
yet your policy has always been to hide, and spin stories and excuses that portrayed you and your doings in the best of light
i could never pity you or even try to offer sympathy in your plight
i had to fight to not resent or even hate you
for the plight you have reduced yourself in, had been in the name of indecisiveness, senselessness and blindness

we hardly ever talk now
i couldn't even stand being with you in the same room, breathing the same air, with guilt and imcompetence as thick as bullet-proof glass panels locking us in our little suffocating space
we could see each other but we could never touch
words and body language could only do so much

i resented with my guts the way things are
i envy, when i see girls with their mothers, happy and locking hands, discussing about the latest fashion or her last relationship with a jerk in which you gals had tea over
i yearn
to be close to you like i used to be in your womb
i desire to call you mom and actually like it
but i cannot

i have the worst temper, and the worst sense in finances and figures, genes i've no doubt i inherited wholesale from you, mother
i looked like you when you were younger, the uncanny resemblance that warmed my heart, even for just a second
and who knows, i might actually get that photo of you tattooed
i may never be the daughter you wanted
but you will always be my mother.

sometimes i wish i was never here, never your daughter
merely a stranger on the streets you would have easily forgotten
sometimes i wish you knew me
no, every single day actually
that i enjoy writing, music, tattoos, late silent nights and women
and that I've actually for once in my short life, has tasted real love and real loss
and how it was never my intention to make you mad or work up a senseless argument over whatever
i could never hurt you
but you can and easily.

what is gonna happen in the time to come?
no one knows and perhaps, no one has the time of day to care
but i've drawn us a pretty picture
in which in my absence, you will be at your most comfortable and happiest
i could be following a dusty man-made path down to somewhere and you could be raising my brother's kids and yelling at his wife for not doing certain thing right
most of all, you will be happy, with daddy.
and i would be too.
i hope

A chapter closed and like the colors of this photo, the surrealism of this notion has sunk in and slipped out.

忽然心一阵好痛
似乎是因又想起你的脸
今天和朋友不知觉谈起了你和以往曾有过的旧回忆
我脸上不禁微笑了起来
心里却不知为何像是被生锈的刀片反复猛割一样痛
其实现在的我过得还不错
也没什么好抱怨的
只是偶尔想起你时， 心脏就会好像被人开了几枪血流不止

这感觉虽不好受但也因已习惯了就不会刻意将它摆脱
最近这感觉突然消失了
真叫我措手不及
霎时间我迷失了方向
中心点不见了
连自己是谁都不知道
这比被人连捅几刀还更难受

好多事不明白的我只能一直往前走，坚信有奇迹这回事
或许走着走着我们又会在另一个国度相遇相爱
朋友教我学着忘记失去的痛苦而是珍惜曾有过的美好
她说你不仅没离开过
还在我心里盖了一座永恒城堡住在里面
大声喊着“这辈子我跟定你了!”

人类的心脏大脑真是奇妙
没什么是装不下的
也没什么是好强求的
只要是真的就会一直存在着

偶尔是间图书馆，任人随时取出清晰画面
偶尔像是间24小时便利商店尽心地满足所有简单或奢侈欲望
现在的我只希望住在我心里的你是快乐满足的
就像从前那样
那里的世界也是平静绚丽的