Saturday, August 26, 2006
Life's Lessons on Kindness and Cruelty
The mind is a strange thing, she reckoned. Why does it have mechanisms with the ability to impose discipline or chaos on one's actions and motivations? And even worse, why is it so capable of hoarding life experiences, especially painful and unpleasant ones to make up what are called "memories"? She forgets so little but even so, she hardly learns and she still errs. Like a chronic attempter at suicide, she grows numb to pain.
*****
Perhaps the most merciful way one could spare another from further hurt sometimes is to walk away and to never look back. Even if that seems irresponsible and cowardly at first. But first, never to promise the other party words that one cannot keep leaving one hanging and stranded with hope. Then one has to will oneself to find ways to closure. Hope can sometimes be a scary emotion, especially the aftermath of hope being crushed. Within her realm of emotions and rationality, she deems the trivialisation of spoken words that inspires hope in another the absolute form of cruelty.
Talk is cheap. But words can be gold, dependant on by whom they are uttered. Especially for people who matter, her words are spoken as honest as she feels. Her only hope is that they reciprocate in kind. Too many broken promises that she could recount even from childhood, the fulfilled ones shone like diamonds amongst pebbles.
She learns to take herself seriously even if others do not feel so for themselves. She figures that's why she never lies when hard questions are asked. She is resolute that her entitlement and that middle ground lie in the right to choosing which questions she wants to answer and which she would not. All the more now as a slightly jaded adult, she would only live on her own terms. In grey arrangements, she knows by now that it is ultimately a futile situation being the liar or the lie-e- she would still bear the brunt of pain. Because she has allowed these people to matter and to carry weight in their words on her...
Realisation, like a form of enlightenment has dawned upon her. The bottom line to managing her emotions from the infliction of words by others is that, one should not have expectations for the mutual reciprocation of anything. They potentially lead to disappointment that might spiral into the abyss of depression.
Thus, one could only hope for the best...
****
"Will I see you again?" she treaded on the question delicately.
"Of course." he tried to sound assuring.
His look into her eyes affirmed that aversion and bravado that she had sensed.
They kissed goodbye and that was the last she saw him.
In hindsight, she should never have asked the question for an answer she should already know.
She allowed his knife to run through her heart.
Just those two words.
Then there were those tender memories that still continues to haunt her...
Price of the lesson paid.
The name of the price is heart- wrenching pain.
****
Age 20
"Do you like me?" she asked during moments of intimacy.
She expected the patronising answer of "yes" typical in the play talking of new love birds (or flings) required to complement the mood and atmosphere of sensuality.
"I don't know." he replied calmly in his aloof self.
"Like you said earlier, we hardly know each other." He continued.
Pause. Tension quite unforseen on her part.
Serious mood emanating in the air around them.
"You know, I wouldn't wait for you, right?"
"No, I didn't expect you to."
Pause again.
"So would you see me off at the airport in 2 weeks?" she attempted to lighten the topic onto a friendlier plateau and pre-empting a conventionally positive answer from him as with others. Be that a truthful answer or not. Anything just to ease the mood.
"No. I'm just not good with these things. I never see any of my friends off."
The first guy who left no room for mystery on his feelings for her where she might re-analyse and search for answers thereafter. Most importantly, he did not lie.
She was somewhat ego bruised then.
But he has held her respect and set that benchmark for her. The way she operates with people and what she seeks out of grey arrangements. Perhaps that helps to shed more light and clarity to her shady deals.
Thank you stranger lover for that kindness.
****
Then there is another kind of cruelty but from fate.
They spent a few days together. They were exotic to each other. Capitalistic vs. Communist. Asian vs. Latino. He exuded an aura of scholarly charm. After all, he is a historian and that appeals to a dilettante like P. He had no money but strong integrity. She loved him for that and felt liberated to be her own woman. And to him, she was this charming and well travelled beauty who took him to the best bars in his hometown where he could only dream of indulging in the best mojitos and Cuban Libre in those nights he had on his whole year's salary...
She had a boyfriend. He had a Cabaret dancer girlfriend who also had another boyfriend.
It was all so wrong but all so right. He still loves her and she loves him too, for it was him who gave her liberation and courage. But their encounter changed her real life for good.
Like all the good men in her life do, he displayed his affection for her to so much as a peck on her cheek. She never once entered her hotel room even if she were to bribe the security guards at the lobby.
They took one picture together at the Chinese restaurant in Barrino Chino for memory's sake.
When they said their final goodbyes, she made bold and kissed him on the lips. He pulled away and looked at her because it was not the right thing to do. Then he turned and left.
She thought it was cruel of him then but now, she knows better.
As fate is just as capable of being cruel as the people that mattered in her life, the photo could not be developed. Not even one photo to grant her of re-affirming their joint existence. But the resounding impact of her memories of those nights in Havana would forever invigorate her soul...
Fate cruelly denied them and left no visual evidence. Them at that happy place together. For the first time in two years, for her then.
She could only be thankful in this instance that she has a vivd memory of things.
She wondered if he would ever make it to step out of his country in this lifetime and see other beautiful parts of the world (that she would tell him about) and make use of his language abilities (currently four). And he, probably wondered if he would ever see her again, acknowledging that her life has to return to that real part of what constitutes her world, her life...
Funny how, that was where she was some three years ago today...
****
Perhaps more in a bit- when will and courage inspire her to write about the darker places...
