When the
U-Haul truck slowly rolled out of the driveway in one final respectful goodbye
to the home she grew up in, I wiped the lone tear from my eye. It's awe
inspiring to witness the death of innocence.
It was one of those adolescent moments where I revel in the romanticism yet
years later, cling to because it scarred me. I loved
her. It said so on Page Three of the scantily clad handwritten note
I left on the windshield of that large dream killing vehicle.
Out of the grip of love's bittersweet clenched fist, I can't help but rewind
and see where I went wrong. I mean, where I, as a human being, went
astray. Am I wired so imperfectly that this moment was inevitable?
I was laying on a waterbed; caught between the curiosity of sex on this
uncomfortable fad and the misery of knowing I will never be able to tell her
how I feel... well, I knew one day I would tell her but by then, she would be
married with 2 kids. And I was right. I stared at her
pictures of then and her family portrait of now and I realized I am her dodged
bullet.
I defined those years by my anarchic teen spirit that was used to mask my
profound sorrow. She was my soulmate. One of many to come.
All those anxieties provoked by my very own prosaic desires. God is
good, I said.
Thawing from a cold winter in the solitary of my own mind, I can't help but
seek warmth in those moments where my silence gave me hope yet gave birth to
regret later. I find solace in their happiness. I will find a small
dose of peace in yours. Dear friend, I am writing to you. In
my own way,. I am a better person than you believe I am. I am worse
of a human being than I believe I am. I am overstated and
misunderstood. Dear friend, I was coming of age. And I froze
right then.
I was the one who held his hand as his trembled. I suppose I wanted to
absorb his intelligence, his toughness and his mystique. He was my
brother. As each day passed by, we watched his life slowly drip
from his pores. Man, we are old, I said. He half smiled and
punched me in the arm. This time, it didn't hurt. Years later, I
cling to the failure of saving him. It was my job. As his
brother.
We accept the love we think we deserve. Man, I wept when I
heard those words. Sure, I've heard them before but not in this state of
mind. You make me feel bad about myself. Or maybe, you held
up an inner mirror. I don't like mirrors. Never have. It was
never hyperbole. Truth is the least obvious sometimes.
I went to a New Years Eve party. Some asked if she was a model.
Man, she was tall. Taller than me. Beautiful and broken.
Beautifully broken. I had better things to do 5 minutes after
midnight. I started off the new year being stupid. She
started off the new year being raped. I should have stayed.
No one deserves to be left alone with strangers.
I stood in the rain under cover of a payphone. It was a suicide,
mother said. I was drunk. I knew in the morning, the world would be
different. And it was. My new circle of friends had
expanded. Hers, diminished by one. I am sorry, soulmate.
I was coming of age and it was no different than you. Or anyone.
Similar tales of angst, loss, joy, sorrow, and intensity. They were
better days. And, it's hard to think they can be matched.
I tried, dear friend.
