Remembering…

I can’t believe it’s been almost a month since my last post in October. A lot has happened and my heart has grown hard and cold.

Yesterday was Remembrance Day. We’re supposed to pay tribute for those who fought/still fighting for our country. Lest we forget, right? But all I could remember is how your eyes pierced my soul last night. I was all hung up on you since that first time we exchanged glances and half-smiles last night. It was like you could see right through me. So much (or little) has happened, and so many things are left unsaid. Unspoken thoughts took over as I catch glimpses of you throughout the night. I have no idea what you think of me now, and even though I have every intention on finding out, I can’t because you won’t let me. One glance and a half-smile are not good enough answers. Why why why! I’m still scratching my head searching for a logical answer, dumbfounded by the confusion this whole ordeal has caused me.

I can’t seem to forget you looking at me before whispering to your friend after you saw me dancing with my friends by the table near the dance floor. Images of you dancing remain in my mind. It kills me that we are further apart now than before we even knew each other. It kills me that I have to secretly indulge in the beautiful smiles drawn on your face. And it kills me that you’ve cut me out of your life. Losing friends is one of the hardest things in life. I’ve only really lost one friend, and now you make the count two… especially without an explanation it is extra difficult.

I get tired of dancing and finds a comfy chair to rest my legs. I watch the sea of girls dancing and enjoyed the down time. Ironically the loud upbeat music calmed me, and I thought for a second that I could get through the night without feeling devastated. Then I go back to the dance floor and found you two people away from me. Thoughts of you that I was about to put away came rushing back like a tsunami. Why did I ever think that seeing you one last time was a good idea? I linger and let the music drown out my patheticalness. Still, by the end of the night I could not muster up the courage to talk to you – as if cutting off all means of communication with me isn’t a big enough hint already. Excuse me for wanting some answers, but I wasn’t willing to trade for a sour “friendship”. So I held back, moped, and found comfort in my bed. Who am I to say that I’m not used to my unsuccessful romantic pursuits and fruitless love life?

An interviewee in the Vancouver edition of the “It Gets Better Project” video says “living itself is a political act.” So I will remember the dead and the past, and carry on living. And this time, I will put my heart to better use.

Nerve Damage

A few weeks ago (Oct.19th) I went to my family doctor’s office to get my foot checked out. I haven’t been able to feel the big toe on my right foot since the Friday before. Originally I thought it is going to heal on its own, but the facebook population urged me to get it checked out. So I made an appointment with the doctor late Tuesday evening.

When I arrived at his office, it was overflowing with people. The seats inside were taken (there weren’t many though), and several others were standing outside. The receptionist seemed to be overwhelmed with paperwork and phone calls. I waited for a while before checking in, only to have the receptionist looking at the clock and telling me to come back in another forty minutes.

So over to the food court I went and ordered myself my favourite (but pricey) meal: Korean rice cake with your choice of chicken, beef or pork. It was a more-than-enough meal, but I managed to finish it just in time to stroll leisurely back to the doctor’s before the 40mins was up.

When I turned the corner, I was surprised to find his office still busy. But it seemed like they were all waiting for something besides to see the doctor. I peered into his clinic and saw some free chairs, so I sat down inside to wait.

Out of the corner of my eye the other people’s subtle movements and the unspoken tension inside the office caught my attention as I pulled out my iPod. I immediately noticed a man sitting at the seat nearest to the door who was holding a thick pile of folded paper close to his heart.

The next minute I heard my doctor talking on receptionist’s phone to the security at the mall about ambulance and paramedics. I put on the ear phones and pretend to listen to my iPod. The doctor sounded mad and anxious. He hung up the phone quickly and went over to the man sitting by the door. He assured him the ambulance is coming. The man’s son, who looks to be in his teens, looked at his watch and said they’ve been waiting for almost an hour. The doctor told him that if anything happened before the paramedics came, he’d be capable of taking care of everything. He then hurried back into his office and saw another patient.

About 5 minutes later several paramedics showed up and crowded the small clinic. The lead paramedic, a woman, immediately started to take charge of the situation. She told the man to take off his shirt and that they’re going to “take a picture of [his] heart”. The other paramedics then proceeded to attach receptors that are connected to a machine onto his chest. She asked a lot of questions about his chest pain. And he answers them diligently.

All this is went on for about 10 minutes while his family watched worriedly. There must have been about 6 people who were anxiously waiting for a medical deliberation. The stretcher arrived and it was decided that the man be taken to the hospital despite not displaying anything too abnormal.

The doctor talked to the paramedic and complained about the lateness of their arrival. The lead paramedic argued that they arrived within 3 minutes of the call but was held up at the security for more than 30 minutes. The doctor told them that he is going to approach mall management the next day. The paramedics leave with the man on the stretcher, and the families part in their own cars, only to meet up later at the hospital. The doctor is relieved and went back to his wait-list of patients. The entire ordeal was over in 15 minutes.

The whole time I was watching from the corner of my eyes I couldn’t help but relate to what happened to dad. I was happy for the man in the chair even though he is sick because he was lucky to have so many family members share his burden and pain. SIX people accompanied him to the clinic just for a check-up! Dad, on the other hand, kept it all to himself and had to suffer alone. No one. (Well, none except his sister and niece I think.) Suddenly I am sad and angry at the same time – like all those times when I think of dad. Sad that he had to endure his sickness alone, and angry that he didn’t tell us so we could at least take some of his pain with us. The details surrounding his death is so muddy that it makes moving on difficult. I haven’t forgotten, and will never forget his incredible courage and honourable stupidity. If only it really “worked” according to his plan…

I can’t remember the last time I was truly happy after he died. I feel like a robot carrying out my “duties and tasks”. I am only doing thing because I am obligated to or if it’s “good for me”, or . I’ve lost passion for life, and I’ve locked my cold cold heart away…

Anyway, turns out my toe has been suffering from a nerve damage and should recover on its own. But I still can’t feel all parts of my toe now (Nov.11). My toe is numb just as the world is numb to me.

More Reflection Crap

I am starting to not care about your reluctance (or should I say resistance?), which is good because being disappointed at your responses will no longer bring me down. But it is bad because it sounds exactly like the “relationship” I had last time. Very unhealthy, this attitude of mine…

I told myself Saturday would have been the end of it. Now I’m not so sure it is. But perhaps the process of “moving on” has already started… and I am just too stubborn to realize it. Or wanting to hold on longer, wanting to give you another chance.

I probably shouldn’t. The more I look at your pictures the more I feel there’s no way we’d ever get together. Anyway, it’s late and I am just ranting.

Train Wreck Waiting to Happen

I could tear up at my own unhappiness any minute.

Alas, I am the one who sinks myself in misery and saddness. How I long for you to stop finding excuses to avoid me. All I need is just a little more time with you. A little more time for you to realize that I may actually be good enough for you, to show you how much I care. A good friend says it took him about 3 years to get to know me. I know I can’t rush love, but at this age where the term “settling down” isn’t foreign anymore, we’re all skeptical about taking a chance.

It will be goodbye after this Saturday. And even if I still believe that water and fire can mix, is it all worth fighting for?

If we can both take a leap of faith together, maybe you can help me avoid this train wreck waiting to happen.

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul” -Pablo Neruda