I drew my nephew today. He was born last fall. He is the first grandchild of my parents. As soon as he was brought to this world, I felt so incredibly protective. All of us in the family suddenly shared a purpose to love him. I’d never known a love like this. The love connected and healed us. I hope to meet him for the first time sometime this year.
The other day, I was talking to a friend. He was heartbroken because he and his person love each other so much, but they are not together at this moment. There seems to be so much pain in their dynamic, as much as there’s love. “You can’t be everything,” I said to him. He resonated. It’s been a few days since the conversation, and I’m starting to feel differently about what I said. Why can’t we be everything to the one we love? How wonderful would it be if we could be everything to each other? To pour into each other with all we have? I want that.
I lost a piece of myself every time you left
I had no idea when I would see you next
You left me hanging and kept me in the dark
The loss, the pain, the void, the yearning
It was all too excruciating
I couldn’t bear it
Nobody had made me feel this way
We were home to each other
Then the next moment, we were strangers
We never got a chance to get close
Our story didn’t even begin
Every time we connected, we started all over again
A few years passed
I read the lyrics of the song you liked
Something clicked inside of me
The way you made me feel
The loss, the pain, the void, the yearning
It was how you felt growing up
With those who were supposed to love and care for you
You taught me it was okay to feel
You showed me what it was like to miss someone
I didn’t know I could miss another person
But you are not just another person
You are me
And I am you
every summer
i take two trains
to get to her
along the coast
watching the shimmers
on the calm waves
soon
i will get to her
to her warmth
her cooking
her energy
her love
her house is messy
the floors greasy
with the oil and steam
from her constant cooking
her constant love
heavy love
her house
always open
women from the neighborhood
loud tv
snacks on the table
in the morning
i’m on her bicycle
rusty with a pink cover
she wears the same hat
she rides to the same places
peaceful winds on my cheeks
on my tanned legs
i smell her
I started experiencing it after one of the biggest tragedies of my life.
There was a boy I was into. He was the captain of my school’s soccer team. Athletic, charismatic, and flamboyant. Beautiful hair, full lips, husky voice. He had strong thighs and calves like a proper soccer player. He wore a navy and orange Le Coq track jacket to his practice. He looked like young Gael Garcia Bernal, but East Asian. I was in love with him.
He became my boyfriend for like 2 months. It felt like heaven. We would go to the local mall for dates. He would walk me home from school, and we held hands. We planned our first kiss over the phone and made it happen the next day. Such little nerds! I never wanted it to end.
Then all of a sudden, he told me that he liked one of my girlfriends and he couldn’t be my boyfriend anymore.
Every day felt like darkness. It went from romantic to hopeless in no time. What even is the point of living, said my 12-year-old self. I’d never ever experienced that kind of pain before. I liked him so so much, yet I couldn’t have him. It was excruciating.
I don’t remember much from the following two years. I have no memories from the period actually. I was legitimately traumatized. It was shocking to my whole system and altered my way of being. Social anxiety was one of the outcomes I suffered.
Up until the boy came into my life and left, I was quite extroverted. Vocal, outgoing, and social. I loved to be around people and especially to talk to people. The experience completely changed me, and it took me a few years to sufficiently recover. I honestly feel like I’m still making my way back to the old me.