We sat across the table. Together but apart. My eyes had already darted to another side of the rooftop cafe. Uncomfortable, undesirable, unusual, we both did not see the need to salvage a lifeless conversation. She only needed to see my face in front of hers, but did not want to hear my opinion (bitterly I laughed, pretended to ask myself "why")
The heat was not helping and the fact that I could not find the usual politeness to pretend cheerful and interested only made it worse. She was busy with her facebook, meticulously deleted, untagged, removed contact, wiping away any trace of her previous boyfriend - the once angel now turned bastard, according to her. I was busy with my itouch, reading news regarding DBSK - the last boys that mattered much to me at this moment.
She: You don't write often anymore
Me: huh?
He: I read your blogs
Me: (not dignify her devotion with an answer)
She: All three of them
Me: (reluctant) Thank you. I don't update that often anymore
He: I like them, and the lack of your explained emotion is scary, sometimes, not knowing what you think
Me: Since when you care so much about my emotion (laugh light heartedly) You were always busy with your boy friends
She: Once in a while, when I am single and bored. I like your honest emotion
Me: Don't you think emotions, once crafted, scripted and beautified are pure fiction?
...
Silence again, and this time, it became worse. Someone hummed a song I knew, and my mind sang along... quietly. I remembered the lyric, I knew the lines, I felt it. Off tune - that's what we were. I caught a note she
She: Read my notes
Me: Where?
She: Facebook
Me: The one you tag half of the world in?
She: Don't be nasty. How is it?
Me: I hate it
She: so many people press "like" you are such a snob
Me: I don't understand those people who go in and "like" someone's breakup. Nor will I ever think highly of those people who publicly insult their ex-boyfriend/ husband/ best friends, you name it. Oh, have I not mentioned those who brag about their branded shopping list - my list of those why-the-f**k-they-wrote-it notes is long.
She: That's why people think you are rude
Me: Rude I am, but I can't pretend to clap. What a wonderful way you insult your boyfriend! - should I comment something like that
She: Whatever
And then while she went on her routine, meticulously deleted, untagged, removed contact, wiping away any trace of her previous boyfriend. I rolled my eyes again and again at things I saw. I was like that - and I will not lie. I used to write blogs out of anger, used to say things I did not mean to, I used to write when I feel like, let my emotion raw and crude.And of course, the consequence :) I used to hurt so many people in the attempt to clear my head to express myself. We are the same, yet different, me and her - or so I thought. We all wrote something today and in the future regret. But it was me of yesterday and her of today, there is one different. I never went such miles to delete, to erase, tp pretend that it was not there. You can lie to your next boyfriend - the at-the-moment angel but you can't lie to yourself, or so I guess.
She: Brushing teeth int the center of the world, you wrote that?
Me: No, someone stole my password and wrote it in such My-Linh's voice
She: Shut up
Me:....
She: You won't vent your anger anymore in your blog? Never ever?
Me: I won't write impulsively anymore
She: Why?
Me: Because they are mine, and I no longer am willing to share those pieces of my heart to just anyone and everyone. I don't want to make my emotion into Amsterdam whores in red light district, showing intimate flesh for the public to ridicule more than muse. I am sorry if I offended the Holland girls.
She: You are being extreme
Me: No, I just stop being naive - thinking people will understand craps and feel sorry for me. Oh well, how's your new note going?
She never published that new note, or so I recalled. It's been a week and there had been less emotional and depressing facebook status. She retagged her ex-boyfriend in those pictures. I heard they talked and hugged each other cry. I heard they made it up and talked to one another nicely. The last time she talked he wasn't called the sonofabitch anymore.
I breathed evenly even when my blood boiled close to 100 degree. Because they are mine, he-whom I have not yet met- will be mine and mine alone (or so it must be), it gets cloudier and cloudier each day, when I thought about my change. Could it be? One day you wake up, and find your perfect sky is torn, yet you still smile contently? Could it be? One day you wake up to see the reflection in the mirror, the opposite person you once were - yet you don't feel the slightest sorrow ? Could it be?
Yes, I am 21.
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