Happy ending

About us.
ummm... no, about me, who has changed
........................................
“This is the way you left me… I am not pretending, no hope, no love no glory, no happy ending”
As I walked, the rhythm of Mika’s “happy ending” kept playing again and again in my head. So “this is it”. I breathed in, disbelieved, astonished, weary…eventually, when I was about to give up, defying my emotion, I realized: anger. It was anger that filled my soul. I wondered why I felt this way. I wonder why I can no longer be the same person I was. I wonder where she went, the girl who cried her eyes out, down on her knees begging for the final letter, something that by right, belonged to her.

Why can I never be her again, My Linh of 18?

Maybe she cried too much, she can no longer read your letter.

Maybe she was hurt too much, her heart forgot what it was like… to feel

Maybe she had had enough all the nonsense, all the despicable lies, and complicated plots which she would never ever able to understand. So she reached out for that number of pills that he could not finish and took them in: one by one, day by day for the past two years. All the lies, the empty promises that were told to her by a “trustworthy” friend of his poisoned her, day by day. She waited for a dead person to return, knowing too well he wouldn’t. She waited for a letter, the final pill that will finish her, so she can wander under the sky and gaze upon the boy she loved. She cried herself to sleep, hoping she can see him. She took up murderous amount of responsibilities at school… For what? Simply to make sure, she would not have time to think of him. She could never look at another guy and feel attracted. Whoever stands in front of her for the past 2 years is merely a being to her, a non-gender acquaintance. Whoever asks for her hands, whether, for eternity or for a dance knows the bitterness of her ruthless and heartless rejection. No red roses are accepted, no soft toys are wanted. Losing him means much to her, in many ways, she died with him, inside. Romantic and kind? Passionate and innocent? She killed herself.

So I knew the email would arrive at 8 p.m., knowing pretty well, the person who would send it was always late. I did not check mail even when she miscalled me. And when she did, I breathed in, again, wondering if this was the end, the final note, the final message, the final goodbye. To my own amazement, I carried on with MY life, finished the chore, made sure the participants of Pre-U Sem have their meals, drinks, go to bed… I carried on with MY life. Yes, this is MINE, my duty, my role as a councilor, as the group leader, as a student, as a daughter of my parents. When was the last time, I had this special position, as his girlfriend, as his? I don’t know, I could not remember for once being an ordinary girl in love, waiting for him to come, tapping her fingers on the table restlessly… I could only recall my misery, from which I grew up. As my inaccurate memory faded, I learned to carry on…. Just like that, for a moment, for a while, I forgot the letter was waiting for me… I waited for it for 2 years and 2 months. Now I have it…

I could not bring myself to read it.

The letter.

I thought I would die for it.
However, I remember accepting that I gave it up. I did not know for that fraction of time, my life changed totally. Being threatened, insulted…, being asked to tell filthy lies that benefited no one but the gambler, being asked to betray my own principles. Maybe I disappointed him, for the first time in my life time of loving him; I placed myself above the one I loved.

Strange as it seemed, I sat down when the clock ticked midnight, informed her that this will be our final conversation for I did not wish to have any further interference to my relationship with him. I started to read.

The poem

The fairy tale

And stop

I closed the borrowed laptop, returned to the laundry room and pressed the buttons. I talked to mom and dad with a brief mention of the letter, Ruam, my true best friend with much screaming and shouting my anger out and sent Ferina a text without any mention of the letter, ignoring the phone call from the complete stranger.

Until this moment, I haven’t been able to bring myself to read the whole letter.
I had SAT that coming morning, thus I could not risk tearing out my heart again. So I printed the letter out, put it on my bed… “gonna read it before u sleep”… another plan which I could not fulfill for I did not sleep the whole night, doing last minute work.

Until this moment, I haven’t read the letter.

I don’t think I will any soon

‘Cuz I do not know how to stop, this machine that keeps me alive for the past 2 years… I do not know how to stop, counting the amount of work that has to be done…

Maybe one moment in time… I will sit down and read…

How could we both love one another so much yet end up hurting each other so badly? A moment of happiness, as compared to years of misery… I believe our love was worthy but what angered me was our selfishness. We are both selfish. You, being so determined to leave me, knowing so well you would never be able to keep that promise of eternity, understanding clearly that you would not leave me anything behind, no happy ending, not even a concrete trace of your existence, were still greedy and took my heart away. I thought I loved the way you loved me. I thought I accepted the fact that you were barely around. Actually, I did, now I don’t. I changed because I am eventually exhausted. On the other hand, I, knowing perfectly well there was nothing I could do to keep you, understanding perfectly well that my love for you which could have not have the power to ease your physical pain or take away your troubles would only made it more complicated and painful for you to embark on your planned departure, was still selfish enough to insist on possessing your heart. So I had to pay for my wrong deed, my selfishness and stupidity. Once I asked myself if I would do this all over again, and what angered me even more was my unconscious and immediate answer YES. I wished you had not gotten stuck with me. Since you would leave no matter what, not knowing me would lessen your eternal burden.

If you could see me know, the grotesque monster you have left on earth when you soared to the sky… I blame you not but am indeed thankful to you.

Now I know, there are not only two extreme polar of emotions sorrow and happiness… There lies outside this flat plane, the third dimension, the vacuum of numbness, indifference… of the ice box where my heart once beats. I read only parts of your letter.

You are right.

You are always right.

I did not cry reading it, not even a little bit.

What for? A thousand words won’t bring you back… I know, ‘cuz I had tried
Neither will a million tears, I know… ‘cuz I had cried

........................................

What happens to un-cried tears?
They flow inward… back to the core of the heart.
In that coldness of the controlling mind, salty water freezes, like an ice box, trapping the heart inside.
........................................

...I am glad it happened. I am glad there was an "us".
I am glad.

Serendipity

Serendipity... till we meet one another

I may have to travel thousands miles... walk cross 107 streets... meet countless of strangers... I may have to cry another ocean of tears... before I finally meet you, my love, the final guy who will wipe away the final tear, have the final dance and say the final vow.

It takes courage to be single, not to be with someone for the sake of having someone... but being with someone because you truly love the person.

it is not as if I enjoy my solitude... I endure loneliness with dignity, holding on to this torch in my heart... till the day your image is no longer blur but clear in my eyes...

Forgive me, if somewhere on this earth, you are suffering... Forgive me, if some moment in time, you need me and I am not there for you. I am in pain if you are. I will make it up for you, by loving you the rest of my life.

Serendipity.

I live each day, thinking... maybe there we may meet, in a perfectly unexpected corner of the road...

Serendipity.

I breath each day, thinking ... maybe one day fate will be on my side, giving me the final and the utmost beautiful gift of my life... you.

Serendipity.

till we meet... till he can finally rest in peace, for you, will take my hand and watch over me.

Life is amazing, isn't it... For this perfect stranger that you walk pass today on the street may be the person you can't live without. I keep thinking how beautiful life is and smile.

I saw this painting one day while searching for a wallpaper of u-know Yunho (DBSK). This faceless guy standing in the middle of no where... looking as he has been waiting for someone for a good part of his life captures my attention immediately.

Serendipity.

Life can be just like that, full of surprise. It is a present, a beautiful gift that I receive each day, just for living and having faith in myself.

I am 20 and more than a week old. I love someone from the past, still loving him every breath I take though he was not the right one. I guess I would not know love if I did not go through so much,loved that much and lost that much. For after all, I learn to appreciate life for every moment can be our last heart beat...

cut open my aching wood...just to open up my heart, once again...


About my life
Recently, I keep watching over Vanessa, praying that she will soon be OK. What does it mean by being OK? Was I ever OK? I mean... After 2 years, now for the 1st time I finally allow myself to accept the idea of moving on in relationship. I want her to be loved. I want her to be treasured. However, I never want her to forget all the pain she is suffering now... for thx to them, she matures and grows up. God, you are the one she truly believes in.... Please guide her, show her your love and forgive her mistake...
When i think of me and religion... there is one thing which is pretty strange. I do attempt to talk to God, many times, praying in a sense... But never once I ask Him anything for myself. I am perfectly cursed and may go to hell for being a non-believer. May be this is the path of life I chose to take, and I will have to pay for it. I just want my beloved not to suffer.

20 and a plus

I am grateful...
For every single birthday wish I get today... I am grateful for the friends I made, the people I care about. Thank you for remembering... a girl was born on this day 20 years ago, with so much hope, dreams...

(gonna edit soon... for this) exhausted now

Counting down

1000...
...
99
...
10
...

I am counting down. The days, the hours, the minutes, the seconds...
I am counting down. The strangers, the acquaintances, the friends...
...

The numbers gets smaller and smaller every time I count, there is less time till the next test, there are fewer true friends... Yet when I think about it today, the last moment of my teenage life, I am not any depressed or regretful... For I know, those last moments are the most precious, those last friends standing are the truest.

I knew what I was doing. At last.

Today i officially got the offer to work as a group leader for a children summer camp. It's not just any camp but a global event that takes places in more than 60 countries. I was filled with happiness and eagerness. Of all the applicants, they chose none and yet, just after a random conversation with me, the CEO said, to him, I am the one. When I turned him down. I knew I was going to wish I could clone myself, half study for Prelim and half working as a motivator for children.

An incident struck me today. Asher was crying, running all over the place looking for his mom... the poor child lost his way in this tiny hostel which I call home. Yet no one, no big sisters from the 2nd floor ran toward him to make sure he was ok. They sit there and STARED. As if those strangers' eyes can do anything to make the child feel better not to mention, frightened him. I was angry with the juniors who walked pass pretending NOTHING happened. As I hugged him in my arms and comfort him, Fanie, calling his dad and mom, Asher stopped sobbing after a while.. "Let's look for mommy". How is Alex today? Gosh, I wish I could tell him that I miss him, his golden curly hair, his bravery and childishness. My god-brother. Alex, he waited for me to bring home THAT GUY who dared challenge his painting and skating skill. . . I never keep my promise.

I am turning 20, in a few second. Responsibilities is NOT a burden, it is an honor. For all those people who look upon u and entrust themselves to u, they must have this strong belief in your potential.

Turning 20, I wonder when can I be a child again? Maybe, only in mother's arms. I truly miss home.

growing up//getting old//maturing

About growing up
There is one thing I am sure: I am getting old.
There is one thing I am not sure: am I maturing?

I barely meet my best friends anymore. we are all busy, SAT preparation, common tests, CA, more tests, more ambitions, more plans. We are all stuck in our own worlds, with the illusion of happiness. I was asked if I am happy. And I told my mother: I am not happy but I am not unhappy about it are you happy? Ruam, Ferina? Indora? We often call one another, for encouragement.Everything becomes fragile... love, tenderness. Sometime I heard Indora's sleepish voice over the phone, Ferina's sobbing and Ruam's hysterical laugh... I miss them a lot, only when I snap out of my miserable piles of homework, when I am off work and off "thinking", when I am human, not bloody mugger- or on the attempt to be one. I don't know. I wish I could at least find myself again, because I miss me so much.

I was honest, with myself, at least. It was not as if I were a jc1 students. As we grow old, the weight on our shoulders gets heavier and heavier... Sometime I just want to take a deep dive... in to the sea, or jump off from the 18th floor, screaming ARGGGGGGGGGGGG like I did in the leadership camp. This is not suicidal thought. I just want to feel this extreme fear again... I want to feel that I am ALIVE. I want to FEEL...

talking about "FEEL". One word, 4 letters, how much I miss that feeling when my heart and soul is full of passion... I used to so something because I wanted it, I desired it, I needed it. Now it is all about responsibility.

Who am I? It is a very good question to ask yourself. The clock is ticking... 1 2 3 4 ... 175 days till A level, crazy huh? 2 days till my 20th birthday? What have I done? and what have I failed to achieved? Can I look into the mirror and love the girl staring back at me? Certainly it is not easy to answer all these questions. I am frightened. I did not blog for a long time, and even when I do blog, I don't like my entries. People often ask me what it means to blog. Well, it's like to talk... monologue... if you can't present yourself well, if you can't even get your message across, if you don't even have a point to make: what's the point of making noise? Listing facts? So I shut myself up... But as I keep quiet, my brain explodes... there are so many thoughts that I know, if I keep writing, editing... trying to make it clear... maybe one day i will be able to understand myself...

It is all about construction, reconstruction, it is all about rewritten truth.

The truth is I am getting old. My eyes are bad and I can't run fast, I lost the passion to run and to do physical training...

The reconstructed truth with all layers of cowardice is that I am scared. Not of dying but living a unlived life. It is so easy to give up. I guess, I was not born to give in or give up.

Do you mind? Just being around me and not talking to me? It is hard for my best friends to see the tough me, being reduced to the defeated me today. I don't even ask for neither sympathy nor understanding. I wish you could be there and your presence is my present...

Getting old and insane, another meaningless post which I will not read again for years... Tell me not the wisdom of old man, but their fear and folly- Leon Trosky... I am speaking Lit. talking Lit. thinking Lit and hurting myself for PC-ing my life.

it's like cutting open all the wounds, all the pretentious perfection that people try to fool me.

Hey, I am 19 with a lot of +++++. I am aware, of the world, of the situation I am in. I just want a nice cup of hot milk, with my computer... I need to write...

Monologue... When no one speaks, I start to think... do i think too much? When the silence is DEAFENING...

I am maturing

in a very childish manner

You think it is easy to get old?

Wondering which path of life you can take to ensure stability and happiness for your parents when they get old, at the same time, find your happiness?

if it is for u, haha, good! Cuz it is not for me.


P.S: I felt my heart ache when this baby in the library run to me, playing with my very colorful necklace... He kissed me on my cheek. Me- the perfect stranger. I saw his older brother, older than me, held him in his strong arms and spook softly to him, telling him not to disturb me. He did not interrupted anything at all. The cute little boy-child just ended my miserable day with one kiss and a smile. I thought I did not need physical love, yet that tiny act of friendliness and cuteness takes my heart away... I played with them for a while. For a moment, it feels GREAT growing up... because for a second, i could provide temporary protection, and comfort to the little angel...

on a point... I want to be a teacher, someone like Miss Lin who inspires...
I really want to make an impact in a child's life.

ngủ ngoan anh nhé... tình yêu của em

In this world you tried,

Not leaving me alone behind.

There's no other way,

I pray to the gods let him stay.

The memories ease the pain inside,

And now I know why.



All of my memories keep you near.

In silent moments,

Imagine you'd be here.

All of my memories keep you near,

In silent whispers, silent tears



Made me promise I'd try,

To find my way back in this life.

Hope there is a way,

To give me a sign you're okay.

Reminds me again it's worth it all,

So I can go home.


Together in all these memories,

I see your smile.

All of the memories I hold dear.

Darling do you know I'll love you,

Till the end of time?



ask, and you will receive...

I want to listen to a fairy tale, before I sleep... Since he passed away, noone ever read me a story before my bedtime... I can't ask for it either, you know, I am almost 20, cynical and bitter. I never would imagine all these fairy tales were true. Even when I wake up this morning, I still feel as if everything were just a dream...

Nevertheless, thank you so much... Nevertheless, I am eternally grateful for this sad ending fairy tale that came true because of you. Whenever I break down, it's that simple whisper: "I Love you" that you said that cheers me up. Whenever I feel like plunging myself down from that height, it's that childish memory that we shared that saves me from grace. Whenever I am pleased with myself, it's that image of your legacy that pushes me to achieve greater height.

And for all these oceans of tears that I cried, for all the frustration and anger, tantrum that the childish me throw… I am glad to know I can love and am loved that much. Who am I? What do I want? How much do I worth? Because of your departure, I was forced to face reality, I was forced to face the truth at its most brutal form. Maturity is not by chance, it is by choice…

...

I asked for a miracle, asked for a sign... knwoing too well, these conection between heaven and earth only exists in fiction... Without faith, without belief, I asked you for a sign, to let me know, you are ok...

And when my mother called me, midnight, out of the blue, immediately after our 1 hour conversation just to let me know she found my braclet that engraved your name... summer snow, four leave clover... I broke into tears...



fairy tales are real, right?

for those who believe...

...



you said: move on... where do I go?



I don't know much fairy tales, those I know, I don't believe. Those I believe, the endings fill with despair... So may I, sing a lullaby for you... for this eternal sleep and eternal happiness, eternal closure of all suffering...

ngủ ngoan anh nhé... tình yêu của em

I miss u, so much.

happy birthday

all that is left for me...

a white, very white shirt, M size fitting... I've never seen nor had a chance to touch. He wore it the first time we talked. I still remember, every tiny little detail. I know it's somewhere here or there. Somewhere, waiting for me. But where is it? Is it well taken cared of or left unappreciated, crumbled and unloved?

an unread letter... I wonder what he wanted to tell me, the very last minute of his life before all said and done, before he embarked on the train of no turning back. I wonder... and keep wondering... his hand writing. Will I be able to read, beyond black and white? beyond words, truth and lies, fact and fiction? Will I? I keep wondering.

These are the two utter most precious treasures that are left for me. Yet, I refused to trade his My Linh for them, what is more important, memories of the past or the future? I did not know, till I realized how much his death transformed me. I am still overwhelmed every time I realize he had already walked away. This particular fact still does, hit me so hard I wonder when I would get very used to it, so used to it I would just stop feel the sharp pain coming somewhere out of my chest... Maybe one day, maybe soon, maybe much later. Maybe right this instant but maybe ever... But the greatest gift he gave which saved me from falling from grace remains. He did not give me his 2 last years on earth as he said: 2 years, till I am 21. But I wonder, if I had not been withOUT him for the past 2 years, would I learn this much, grow this strong, be this sure about who I am and what I want?

I remember crying most of the time. He left me an ocean of tears which I have never known of. The last night we talked, on receiving the news, on my 18th birthday and such, I asked myself why all these memories, so sweet and so dear to my heart can bring me so much regret and sorrow. I remember biting my lips so no one hear me cry. I would love to keep these tears for myself. Wish that he above all the people would not see it. No more undone business, he can proceed to the other sky await, above the earth, the part of the universe where I would never be with him or maybe yes, but much much later. "How are you?" How hard it is now to know something so simple I just want to be assured that he is happy.

I just want a sign... a sign to let me know he is ok. As long as he is ok...

...

in many years they may forget the love of ours, or that we met... they may not know how much you meant to me...

...

Supposedly 21 years old... Happy birthday to you! Supposedly today, we would part. Supposedly I had fate on my side, supposedly I had 2 years of your life to convince you that I was capable of loving you: your sorrow and pain, your utter childishness and matturity, your smile, your laughter, your carelessly burned food... that you did not have to go, this way. But who I am to judge? When the pain is excruciating, bringing you misery and pains, where was I? What did I do for you but making you worried.... someone to care for not someone who was capable of caring for you

Look at me! I am everything I am today, because you love me. Thak you for being the flamboyant sky enveloping me, protecting me. For who you were, and who you are, always in my memories, I have learned to be more than just myself, more than just the girl who was hit twice by cars, fainted continually uncer the sun... I am grateful... we met.

I miss you? How absurd, missing is a totally understatement. You are in my thoughts, my prayer.... a part of me.