Sunday, November 12, 2017

no room in my heart for hate



A few years ago, I discovered that someone had taken some of my stories and posted them as his own. I have had many regrets since then but an unspoken one is I wish I had been mature enough to see beyond what happened, beyond what he did. Instead, I posted screenshot after screenshot of his supposed crime. I wanted him to hurt as much as I was hurting then. His apologies were left unanswered, his attempts to reach out and rebuild unequivocally rebuffed.

I let hatred out of my heart and into the world not fully realizing that it may take days, hours, even years but hate always has a way of coming right back to you.

Recently, it's come to my attention that he has been saying hurtful things about me online - half lies too many to disprove, too pointless to discount. I know a couple of the people egging him on but most were relative strangers to me. They insulted my writing, my work, and even my physical appearance. I couldn't understand how there could be so much hatred out there, and from people I didn't even know.

I have scratched the itch that is hatred for such a large part of my life. And while it is easy to play the victim and fuel the flames of this narrative, today I choose to be different.

I saw this wall of letters in a hotel a few weeks ago and I thought it was interesting how if you extended it to infinity, you could build infinite combinations of letters, words, and sentences. Somewhere in this wall are all the things you have wanted to say but couldn't. I could pick out the letters I like - strike back, say mean things, fight fire with fire - but what would that accomplish? What good would that do to either of us?

So instead, I pick out this combination. I forgive you. I release you. I hope you find the courage to move on.

I have. And let me tell you. It feels great.

To quote the brilliant Wachowskis in Sense8, there is simply no room in my heart for hate.

♫: The Beatles | All You Need Is Love - Love Version (2006)

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

your umbra, my penumbra



The National Aeronautics and Space Administration defines an eclipse as an event where one heavenly body such as a moon or planet moves into the shadow of another heavenly body. There are generally two kinds of eclipses: a lunar eclipse where the Earth blocks the sunlight that is normally reflected by the moon and a solar eclipse where the moon blocks the light of the sun from reaching the earth. In cases on total solar eclipses, the sky becomes very dark, as if it were night.

I remember holding your hand as we made our way through the crowd. I remember the beads of sweat glistening on your forehead as we looked for our perfect spot. I remember the strength of your arms, your sinewy muscles as you laid out a blanket on the damp grass. I remember you squinting your eyes, your right hand resting on your brow as you struggled to see.

The sky began to darken as we sat down. I squeezed your hand tighter as the crowd began to scream louder and louder. Through high-powered lenses, we watched as the moon emerged, encroaching gently on the sun. I watched as that big ball of light faded into unnatural shapes - a bitten apple, a child's toy, an orange wedge, slowly retreating to a fingernail. The crowd grew in fervor and despite warnings from the government, a number looked directly at the sun. How could you look away when you know that these things only happen once in a lifetime?

I didn’t look at the sun. I didn’t look through the lens. I was looking at you. You were all at once so beautiful, so curious, and yet so dangerous. I could’ve stayed there looking at you forever. The sight of you was more beautiful, more breathtaking than the sun, moon, and Earth combined.

For what seemed like a millisecond, the whole world was wrapped in darkness. I held my breath and closed my eyes, letting the sound of the crowd, the warm August air, the grip of your hand, the magnitude of a solar eclipse in our lifetime – I let it all wash over me. For a second, I was no longer in my body. I had somehow found a way to fly away into the darkness. I was floating in zero gravity. I had never felt so calm, so free. That’s probably why I didn’t notice you’d let go of my hand. You let go of me.

I opened my eyes. It was the afternoon again. The crowd began to put their cameras and their sandwiches away. Everywhere, everyone was moving on with their day. It was as though the eclipse and all that came with it had never happened. I looked to where you were but you were gone. I searched through your face in the crowd but you weren’t there. Why did I look away when a love like yours only happens once in a lifetime?

In the middle of it all, it was as if the moon stayed put and there was nothing but darkness. Some eclipses last a few seconds. Some stay for a few minutes. Some of us are still waiting for the sun to come back.

♫: Jill Andrews | Total Eclipse of the Heart (2013)
Photo: eclipse
Text: NASA

Monday, August 14, 2017

burns like a promise broken



Sometimes, I feel like life would be so much easier if I were a cat. I imagine weaving in and out of crowded alleys, strength in my legs as I leap from room to roof searching for my next adventure. I laugh as I evade countless threats with my speed and wit. I know how to run with the best of them but I also know where to find solitude. Cats know many stories and this one starts as I enter a studio through a hole in the window screen. I am silent save for a hushed purring that I tried but failed to contain.

They do not hear me for they are asleep. She is clutching the sheets to her chest. The blanket resists but gives. He is left with nothing but the thin film of sweat the covers his body. He tugs at the blanket, the tug-of-war only briefly entertaining. I jump towards the top of the shelf where I have a better view of things. I gently paw a pointless figurine towards the edge. It shatters into a million pieces.

His eyes fly open. At last, he awakes. He glances at the wall clock, the minute and hour hands like an ice cold bucket of water. And just like that, he’s up.

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” he yells. It is obvious he does not care if she awakes. She stirs, mumbling incoherently, her sleep prevailing over this midnight tantrum. He is dressing hurriedly. The button from his boxers nearly comes loose as he tries to put his pants on. He is hopping. Always hopping. Why do humans like wearing such tight jeans?

“What’s happening?” she finally asks.

“I must’ve slept through my alarm. It’s almost morning and I’m still here. Fuck. FUUUUCK!

A bright light embraces her face as her eyes squint to adjust. “Um, it’s just half past 8.” He isn’t listening. He seems to be looking for something under the bed.

“Have you seen my socks? Damn it, I swear I left them right here.” She slinks towards him, her arms like little snakes that caress him from his back to his chest as she adjusts his tie. “Honey, It’s just 8:15. The batteries on that old clock must’ve died. You have time.”

“I do?” She nods. He exhales. “There’s still time to…” She continues the rest in a whisper.

“Phew,” he interrupts. “I’m sorry I panicked.” She kisses a line from his shoulders to his neck to a fevered cheek. He seems unfazed. “I didn’t want to sleep in the car tonight.”

“You are welcome to sleep over. You know that, right?” Her voice is suddenly cold and sharp like a steel knife. His hands fly to his ring finger where a golden band burns like a promise broken.

I may be a cat but even I know what that means.

♫: Dragonfly Collector | Someday, Someday, Maybe (2014)