It was the hardest drive ever for me.
Coming back from the airport, seeing all the palm trees in their indifferent glitters, passing through shops and restaurants that seemed all so different just twelve days ago, my last strain gave away and I could hold nothing back. When I entered 405North there weren't many cars, unlike last time. And in just one second, my eyes were seriously dampened, my throat started to hum a monotonous sound. And I saw headlights coming from the opposite track, all blurred and fuzzy; they looked like jellyfish in the ocean. Floating and floating, as I blinked. I was seeing jellyfish, thought I, I was in a deep dark ocean, an ocean where the only liquid is watery salty sadness, and the only music is from the man who cried. I had stopped the CD player a long time ago. I stopped it the minute I got out of the terminal and into my little driving seat. Even Toni Braxton sounds too much on a night like this. I can't take any melodies any more.
Though with all these feelings tearing me up I managed to find the right freeway exit and got home. Fifteen minutes' drive felt like for ever. And after I turned the key, entered the room and tuned the light on, I looked around for a moment just to believe that I was by myself now…or from now on. It's tough to believe, maybe even tougher than a religion.
I went into the bedroom, and collapsed onto the pillow. Three years back I fell from my chair onto the floor, so it's a little better this time that I landed at least on something soft. But I was loud. So loud that I think my upstairs neighbor was annoyed because I could tell from their footsteps. The crying went on for a few minutes only, guess I was tired. Trust me crying is more strenuous than singing. But…what about a combo? So I pulled myself up and started nailing the intro of
事过境迁 . Once again these chords and lyrics deceived me, and by the second verse I was all rumbling in who knows what kind of voice.
那一些笑 那一些泪
那一些错 那一些对
你的等待我的坚决 却输给真实世界
笑吧 抹去眼里的泪
事过境迁 就不该后悔
After two songs I was really exhausted. Yet it horrified me to turn off the light and sleep. So I copied onto my hard drive part of the DVD video that my computer refused to read, and started watching. Getting me tired was almost the only way to eradicate sadness temporarily.
And I slept. I woke up only once in the middle. And I said to myself, at least I'm sleeping better now…
In the morning it started to get chilly. It's mid October already there're plenty of excuses for the weather to change. But what about the heart. What about the temperature of memories…realizing that home was a scary place to be at this point, I abandoned my original plan for cleaning up/cooking and got ready to go to school. There was pleasant sunlight, and the right amount of clouds. Shall I look at clouds from both sides now? Shall I look at love from both sides now? Or do I really not know life….at all…..
Around 3PM I started checking on Cathay Pacific website for flight info. Two hours later he wrote me, landed. He hoped I wasn't feeling too bad. I said I was doing OK. After that horrible drive from the airport nothing could be too bad. There are too many things to take care of and too many reasons to live on. Maybe even a little hope that this is not the end.
I went to see the first Melnitz screening of this quarter. A dark comedy, full of laughters.
Eulogy. Great thing they brought the two little twin actors to the screening too. A fun watch. Afterwards I headed home. I knew it was going to be tough again, yet I took it come what may. 11PM. About one minute after I entered the room the phone rang. He's at home now. We talked for around five minutes. He sounds pretty calm and a little tired. On my side? Relief. Happy. Woe from total detachment. And tremendous loss. I put on the
"Coffee and Cigarettes" DVD and watched a while. Then I went to sleep quickly. And I didn't wake up at all until this morning. A chilly autumn morning. But it was a wonderful sleep.
Was is all, said I, was it all? I hated myself for being incapable of directing my residence at this point of my life. I feel like a floating bottle on the sea and accidentally collided onto a rock. Yet the wind and water still pushes me on. Farther and farther away from that rock, so smooth and beautiful, almost like an amethyst. But it shouldn't be totally impossible to hit again, thought I, with the water drying up and the wind slowing down. Or maybe the amethyst would choose to float too, by the end of the day, when the sun sets, and the starlight burns out kisses of happiness. Our happiness.
