401

early sunday morning. I haven’t been up this early on a sunday for a long time. especially not after a long night spent a local bar. there’s nothing local about it, I just like the way it sounds. my local, not yours. somehow clicking accept on that request makes me feel different. I’m breaking my own rules, it’s a completely new ground. I’m losing the touch with reality. of course, I’m thinking about white oleander. but it doesn’t really matter. it doesn’t matter. not after that phone call yesterday, not after I wrote that email and not after everything we have been through. I’m sorry I’m so hard to love.

I’m taking out old photographs from the boxes, they are everywhere; on my walls, floor, bed. I’m looking at them trying to understand who people in those photographs actually were. there’s one from paris with me and mom, standing below the eiffel tower, the sky is azure blue, our hair shines with sun. and we look so happy. I wonder whether it’s the right word. happy. what does that even mean? I was too young to know anyway.

summer. it’s coming. I can feel it. it’s creeping up on me like a black cloud. and every year it comes in from the same direction. things are getting harder, it’s getting hotter and my relationships with certain people are getting worse with each day. because that’s how it is. summer used to be the time of my life. summer used to be all about me being a kid and playing endlessly with sea shells by the sea. soaking in the sun and freedom. now I am a prisoner of a hot, concrete city, suffocating in the masses of people and heavy smells coming from the underground. there are no words to describe how much I want to go back to being six years old.

but it doesn’t mean anything.

it’s been too long, but I’m not sorry

dear ____,

I never intended to keep quiet for so long. but we’re both quiet. things have changed. but this time, definitely. this time – it’s a change I can point at. no more of that abstract bullshit I was feeding you all these longs months and years. but I am not going to apologize. initially I wasn’t even going to write this as a letter, but then I realized it probably might be the easiest way for me to say everything I have been meaning to let out for a good couple of weeks now. the only difference now is, that this time it’s completely about me. I am not wondering how you are doing. I hope you’re doing good, okay. I hope you’re happy. but right now, at this moment, my own happiness is more important to me. and I don’t think it’s selfish.

okay, well let me see. it’s been basically two months since I last sat down and tried to write a proper piece, which would contribute to this so-called book of life. I believe we came up with the whole ideology a few years back, but the meaning of it is completely irrelevant. of course, it is. it’s been years. already two months ago I started to lack time. there was no time for anything. I couldn’t find five minutes to sit down and put my thoughts together. and now I seem to be back in the regular cycle of stress and it’s draining me out. I feel like I need a break, but not from work. I am just tired. constantly, in general, non-stop, all the time – tired. I’m not sure what it is anymore. for a while, I thought it was somehow chemically induced, so I tried to get off coffee like you’ve always told me to, but the thing is, it’s my state of mind. it has nothing to do with the fact that I regularly pay half the price at a starbucks. it’s like having your personal dealer who charges you less than others. no, wait, it’s exactly like that. it’s every addict’s dream.

anyway. I had exams a few months back, I finished them. they went okay, I’m still waiting for some of my results. but yeah. then came Cambodia. I missed vietnam while I was there, I missed home and I kept thinking what it would be like if we were there together. but somewhere, half way through the trip, somewhere in the air while I was on the plane between Phnom Penh and Siem Riep, I stopped caring. I figured we are as good as ever and things are not going to get any better. things are definitely not going to change, because I am not going to do anything. because I just don’t give a shit anymore. I’ve moved on. it happened overnight. it was quite a shock, too. but the good kind.

when I returned back to hong kong; I wasn’t on my own anymore. but it took me a long time to realize it. it took me a while before I’ve accepted the new feeling in my heart. I cannot even begin to describe the moment when I finally did. it was like being set free after all these years of pain, sadness and one-sided affection for you that was killing me. I came back home, I came back free. but that’s not to say you’re not my friend anymore. you are. you will always be. there’ll always be space and place for you in my life. just not the same kind anymore. then came spring break. this year’s was so different from last year. on so many levels. it’s impossible to compare it. this year filled my heart with entirely different emotions. happiness, cuteness, affection. and so on. I’m starting to sound like one of those people from love actually. oh, wait. that was the first film I watched this year. maybe that’s why. somehow I think it’s had an impact.

and now I am back at school again, trying to get my shit together, and it’s incredibly hard, because studying is the last thing I want to do because I feel like I’ve finally found happiness. the real kind. or something. I don’t know. I wouldn’t know. it’s completely new. and completely different. because what happened is I realized that I am happy right now. happier than I have ever been in the last thirteen years of knowing you and that’s something. I hope you’ll understand one day, even though I still haven’t told you. I don’t want to. (I’m still pretty pissed off about switzerland. but you’ll never know.)

I just realized how personal this letter is. and yet it is still out here. but somehow it feels okay. it feels right. when I look back at all of my writings, it seems like I’ve hidden half the truth. I don’t want to do it anymore. I’ve already started working on the way of finding my old self. the way I used to be honest and open about everything, just letting things out there, the way they are. you were the person who taught me not to do it, you were the person who forced me to become just like you. but you’re also the reason why I am going back in time now. it’s so hard. incredibly, incredibly hard and half the time I just hate everyone and everything, because I am afraid of getting hurt. because I’ll never be able to forget. but the thing is, I need new memories. memories with someone who actually loves me.

because you never did.

signed oscar wilde.