Eavesdropping Series: Love Edition

Since I always eat on my own, I get to be more aware of my environment and the people in it. I realize that people tend to have very interesting things to talk about and I will hear because I am sitting next to them. They are not shy about it so I sometimes just listen to their conversations. Sometimes, I get to have a few chuckles about it. I thought that it'd be nice to share it with my friends on snapchat.

So, I started my own series which includes my selfies captioned with information from the conversations I overhear. I never take pictures of the people that I eavesdrop on. No names are included either.

So here's the set that just happened 15 minutes ago.

When I am in a corner deliberately

Hi, my name is Tryphena.

My talents include redirecting conversation topics to food 

and making people feel uncomfortable with my probing questions about their life.

I am not here to meet people, 

Notice how I am standing in the corner,

avoiding contact with everyone else at all costs.

I am simply here because I am supposed to

or I'm doing a favor for a friend.

I do not wish to participate in your discussion of the weather,

or the debate of whether the iPhone 6 bends "for real".

We have two seasons, raining and hell.

It is not rocket science

and definitely not a good ice breaker.

Oh, did you know it rained today?

OH MY GOD, REALLY?

and here's a tip,

don't bend anything that is not supposed to be bended.

Don't get me wrong, 

I am a nice person but

if I am in the corner deliberately and you invade that space,

you better have interesting things to say. 

I am in this corner for a reason.

If small talk is the only thing that you've got,

don't take offense when I make an excuse to go to the toilet and never come back.

I would usually stay and chat but 

if I am in a corner, people watching, 

please leave me alone.

Unless you've come to join me in judging people by their covers for fun,

then by all means.

Breaking my own promise.

I promised myself that I wouldn't talk about her anymore, that I would stop dedicating words to her,  words she will never read. Then, it became evident to me that there were imprints of her everywhere. I see it in my stories, my poems, my conversations and even in my reaction towards a new friend. I swore to never talk about her again but she's everywhere.

When I see the word best friend anywhere, my mind still goes to her even though she no longer holds the title. The feeling of this is like a recovering alcoholic seeing a sign pointing to a bar. Their first instinct tells them to go in and order a drink. Then, their senses come to them and they have to consciously convince themselves to walk away because going in will not help them in any way.

Time and time again, my mind will unconsciously remember the good times that we had, which triggered a lot of the bad memories. I would usually stop myself from going down to memory lane but sometimes, I would allow myself a short stroll and everytime without fail, I will end up missing her.

We don't talk anymore. It's horrible because now, even our small talk is awkward. We couldn't get two sentences out with that gaping feeling between us. And every time she talks to me, I wonder if she misses me. I never understood how people can just go around pretending like they never once knew everything about this person. I never understood how they manage to put away all these memories and information like it never mattered. 

There was a quote that I saw on tumblr, I don't remember it exactly but it goes along those lines, "He always photographed the thing that he loved but he never took a photo of me". I was in a lot of her photos before. Back then, I will always be somewhere in the picture. Now, you can't even tell that we're friends. I was happy then. Spending time with her was nice, I could talk to her about anything and she always made me laugh. She kept me calm, she kept me sane. She was my own sun. Was. Now, I can't remember what her laugh sounds like. 

I would like to think that she was using me because believing that is less painful than to believe that I just wasn't relevant anymore. However, as much as I don't want to believe it, I know that at some point, I did mean something to her and she really did loved me. My judgement about people hasn't failed me yet. So, up until some point, she really was my friend. My only mistake was to believe that that will never change. 

I stop telling people the details of our friendship. It used to be long, detailed paragraphs of stories. Now I replace those stories with "We don't talk anymore" and "I don't know, she never responded and I gave up eventually". I stop telling the stories because relieving the memories bring me pain. I no longer see the reason to put myself through it anymore.  I'd like to think that she doesn't care because it will help me move on from this. However, I saw a quote that says this, "There are two reasons why people don't talk about things, either it doesn't mean anything to them or it means everything". I don't know which one is she.

I think, among all the friends that I've made over the years, I will always love her the most. I mean, how can I still, after everything? But I do, I still do.

Suicide

Most of us are baffled at our own prospects of death. I think it's because of the mystery to it. I mean, we don't know when it will happen or how it would happen. So, we mask that curiosity, that fear of it sometimes, by being busy, being occupied and being oblivious. Most of us think that our end of the road is old age, grandkids or perhaps, success. The very idea that "lives can be cut short either deliberately or not" is a myth, a fairy tale made up to scare us into taking risks and aiming for the stars.

Kristina Akana, 1993-2007, she ended her own life on Valentine's Day. I just finished reading her sister, Anna's book, Surviving Suicide. Anna wrote about the aftereffects of a suicide. People always talk about why people shouldn't kill themselves and how much people will miss them but I have never seen anything told from the the perspective of someone that was left behind. That is up until now.

I have never had friends or family who were claimed way before the expiry date by suicide. However, I have friends who, fortunately, failed at their attempts to take their own life. Two were when I had to talk to them relentlessly because there was nothing else I could do. One was after she had her stomach pumped. I remember the panic when I hear "I'm sorry" and that lump in my throat that won't go down no matter how many times I swallow. I remember bargaining with God even though the life at risk is not mine. I remember that sensation of vertigo when they dropped the other line of the call. I remember hearing train tracks and the sound of her sobs.

Anna talked about how her brain was far from reality when she got the call that her sister tried to hang herself. Her response was "Oh My God, she's going to be grounded for a very long time" or something along those lines. I guess, it is normal for us to not accept the visit of the Grim Reaper, especially when you are not expecting him. Sometimes, I do wonder. I wonder if they ever stop crying. I wonder if they ever stop picturing her face when they hear "Kristina' or if they ever stop missing her. I wonder if Kristina wished that she stayed. I wonder if she is happy now.

I hope, I solemnly hope to God that she is.

When I heard that you cried.

When someone I love cries, my first reaction was to kiss them and say "I love you". When my little brother comes running to me in tears, I would put him on my lap and cuddle him. I would let him stay like that as long as he wants, until he feels better. I would kiss his cheek and just let him calm down.

So, when you told me that you cried, I instinctively hugged you. You buried your face on my neck and I feel you smile as you hugged me back. I tried my very best to resist the urge to kiss you on your head. I laughed and pulled you in for a tighter bear hug, which you oddly didn't wriggle away from. Then, I heard you laugh. It was light, delighted, like smelling hot chocolate on a rainy afternoon.

I swore I wouldn't care about anyone else but then, you appeared. Every time you say my name or look my way, I blew it, all of it. The sound of your name makes me do a double take. The sight of you makes my steps quicken. When you turn to smile at me, basically just noticing me, I get heart palpitations.

I am happy. After a long time, I am happy. You, you make me happy. For now, I really couldn't ask for anything more.

Love in Slow Motion.

I like watching people who are in love. I like how they light up at the name of the other. I like how they unconsciously break into a smile when they talk about this significant person. I like the way they blush and get gibberish. It is as if they're trying to squeeze all the sunshine, rainbows and good intentions of this person into one sentence. Obviously, you cannot contain a person's being into a sentence. So, they morph paragraphs and paragraphs of adoration into a never ending sentence, stitched together with commas and hyphens.

I have a friend who recently fell in love. I spend a lot of time listening to her talk about the details of her relationship. I didn't mind. I understand that she couldn't help it so I never stopped her from talking about it. Slowly, I found out that I learnt a lot about this guy that I only spoke to for about four times. I learnt that he likes to write letters. I learnt that he is very patient. I learnt that he likes burgers. I learnt that he was in love with her.

Maybe it's the way that his name rolls off her tongue like sweet honey. Maybe it's the way he purses his lips together and smiles after he says her name. Maybe it's the way both their gazes are so gentle but sure that it makes you want to look away. I asked her if she loves him. She hesitantly said yes, as if admitting would put her at a losing side. She always had doubt perched on her shoulders, feeding her the tale that she wasn't good enough. Sometimes I do wonder why people run from the things that they want. I also realize that they run faster when it is within reach or when they are already holding it.

She doesn't see the way that he looks at her, especially when she is embarrassed. I think that was the look of amusement and fondness. She is going to kill me for using the word "fond". She doesn't know about the way that he talks about her when she's not around. She doesn't know about the way that he waits for her. I saw him sitting on the sideway from the side of the road. His silhouette showed his hunched body and both his hands are clasped together with his elbows resting on his knees. He would turn to look if someone came down the stairs. He was a manifestation of calm waters and swooshing sea waves on a Saturday night. He simply sat there and waited, without any sign of impatience and anxiousness.

I believe that it is very beautiful to fall in love slowly. It is like reading a book. You get to slowly uncover secrets and stories that only that book can tell. The best part about reading a book that you already like is that you accept everything that the book throws at you. Just like everything else, you will always get one part that you don't particularly like. The most amazing thing about loving someone is that you don't try to fix them. You either readjust yourself to them or you both compromise.

I am not the best person to discuss what love is or what it is supposed to be. I have a very pessimistic view on things as vague and abstract as this. Maybe because of this, I am not often very happy. However, despite the fact that I refuse to open myself up to emotions, I am particularly drawn to genuine interactions and "in the moment" reactions. I remember how she hunches her shoulder and hides behind her left hand when she first talked about him. I remember how he panicked when "I" asked him why he didn't celebrate her birthday with her.

I am not a happy person because of the things that I refuse to believe in but I believe that it is possible to love and be loved, because I have seen it.

Tumblr Musings #11

Not all toxic people are cruel and uncaring. Some of them love us dearly. Many of them have good intentions. Most are toxic to our being simply because their needs and way of existing in the world force us to compromise ourselves and our happiness. They aren’t inherently bad people, but they aren’t the right people for us. And as hard as it is, we have to let them go. Life is hard enough without being around people who bring you down, and as much as you care, you can’t destroy yourself for the sake of someone else. You have to make your wellbeing a priority. Whether that means breaking up with someone you care about, loving a family member from a distance, letting go of a friend, or removing yourself from a situation that feels painful — you have every right to leave and create a safer space for yourself.

- Daniell Koepke

Reasons to get out of bed.

I haven't written in a while, which explains why I feel like I am going crazy. Since my days recently, have been bad or worse, I feel like I need to remind myself why I get out of bed. Hence, this list happened.

1. There's lunch somewhere out there.
2. You paid 9K this semester so you need to go to class.
3. You get to go to Muay Thai if it's the weekend and you enjoy it.
4. They make you happy, even if it's a little while.
5. It hurts less when you go out.
6. There is a possibility of fried chicken and cheesecake.
7. That person.
8. You get to laugh at other people.
9. Because you have to.
10. You can always come back to your bed when it's really that bad out there.

Waking up empty, again.

It was raining, a downright storm,
everywhere was dark, gloomy,
you feel like you never knew what happiness was.

I woke from my nap, expecting to be refreshed or at least not as tired
but no, that ever familiar sinking feeling is back.
I felt like I really forgot how to smile, it was as if
I forgot what anything good feels like.
Getting up hurts, just like I remember it.
Talking or making attempts at communication drains you.
It's definitely back because
suddenly, I was desperate to feel anything that was bad for me.

I crave cigarettes and the way they feel when I smoke it.
I love counting how many years they are taking off my life
but literally, not caring about it.
I crave alcohol, I crave the burn it gives when it goes down my throat.
I want to feel my face numb up from too many shots,
I want to feel how peaceful everything seemed to be, drunk.
I crave pain, they tighten up all the loose screws
and I can appear as fine, as well.
I love how they stop me from feeling the black hole in my chest,
at least for a while.
You only need to function for a while, it works.
I crave the sense of danger,
I would walk outside late of the night, and hoping
that somehow I would fall victim to a horrible tragedy.
I love how I know that I have 70% chance of dying
and I wouldn't really care.

Despite having the desperate need, the want to destroy myself,
I am still alive because I refuse to die.

I remind myself that every day.

Day 9 of 30 Day oetry Challenge: Quickly jot down four verbs, four adjectives, and four nouns. Write a poem using all 12 words

Dreams can shock you into feeling, anything.
It's a dream, it can go anywhere.
Anything can happen, whether be it a lost memory,
or a treasured moment.
Dreams have the ability to make you feel the extend of what you are capable of.

Sleep reminds you that you're alive when you wake up.
It's how you rest, how you stop thinking.
However, when you drift off into unconsciousness,
you don't control where it goes from here.
You are free but somehow, not really.
Your dreams are where you face your fears,
your hopes, your worst case scenarios.

When you wake up,
you can feel pain, so much pain.
You wake up, hunched into question mark and
admit that there is nothing else worse than what you are feeling now.
You will naturally learn to tell yourself to breathe,
to say that it's not real and you'll be okay.
The pain will subside and slowly,
it will be an imprint of what you felt just moments before.