Wednesday, December 22, 2004
I Forgive You, Always...
Hibernated Phalaenopsis. 
I received a most disturbing phone call tonight. I never thought that he would call ever, but he did.
The fact that sometime tonight, this soul, whose voice I much long to hear, was out there with many other things to do, and amongst the many things that troubled him, had chosen to ring me instead.
This is a guy whom I had known for a long long time. I grew to learn his likes and dislikes. His once perfect almost angelic face, had grown rough, bitter and sullen possibly from the constant battle with melancholy.
His expression could have only been of somebody grieve-ridden over many many winter years, denied of even a flicker of rays of joyful sunlight. Pale and tortured the last time I saw him. I didn't know what went on in his mind then, as he wouldn't let me in and I was made to believe that any purposeful conversation with him would jeopardize the wellbeing of both me and him. So I stayed well away, any vital conversation was kept to bare minimum. It tortured me and I cried inside.
I was surprised to hear a jovial singy-songy tone of voice which I instantly recognized as being his. Although this put an instant smile on my face, I was very quick to ring a bell of curiosity as to why he had called at 4:00 am Malaysia time and why he sounded too happy.
I was touched by the fact that he put an effort into making sure that he was calling at an appropriate time on my part of the world, giving little regards to what the the time he had to call on his part. This is the bit in what's left of old him that I would always remember.
We talked about petty things, and events we've missed since we last saw each other. It seemed surreal, given the fact that on my last trip he wouldn't even talk to me, look at me, eat with me, laugh at my jokes, ask me if I was fine. His participation in my life at that point was far from forthcoming. I almost didn't exist in his world. He didn't send me off at the airport, because he refused point blank.
I was beginning to catch up with his contagiously elated mood bridging into ecstatic hocus pocus. We joked about certain things which happened and I was relieved that he was capable of thinking that it was funny. I didn't want to spoil things by reminding him and me for that matter, of his past but recent behaviour. I want him to be like this for as long as possible.
Just as things beginning to warm up and ooze sense of familiarity and coziness again, he suddenly asked me about a man in a sporty gear who recently paid a visit to his house. He asked if I knew the man. I was very confused and I said I couldn't have possibly, because I haven't been home. He started talking about this man and an association to a Malay College Kuala Kangsar, a subject dear to his heart and I got even more puzzled.
He made no regards for me wallowing through a cobweb of utter confusion. He changed the subject to an intense craving for nasi kerabu and that I should stop by on the way from the airport to get him this.
I was in my mid sentence to reason with him, that I was nowhere near going home yet when his idea suddenly jumped to the subject of his watch, which I bought him for his birthday last year. Oh no make him stop.
He started confabulating about this watch having a dual time frame so that's exactly how he knew what time it was in UK. I know that this was a complete bull. My curiosity grew underneath me and surfaced to meet the other focal of sheer fear for losing his train of thoughts and lose him altogether.
An upheaval heat of confusion was reaching it's boiling point and I was terrified that it would blow completely out of proportion and it would be beyond redemption. I know his birthday is coming soon which might justify why the topic of the watch, but the pressure of speech that came with his flight of ideas hit me in the head just as I was reaching my state of fear of an impending doom.
I listened on and I could hear him laughing and giggling as he went on and on talking about absolutely everything under the sun, hopscotching from this to that and the other. At this point making no sense to me whatso ever. I was jittery.
He was still exactly the same person I left there in the room staring at the floor, apopleptic with no interest, no qualms, no fear, no remorse. Only this time he pendulumed to the exact opposite and was ecstatic instead. Possibly at the thought of him conquering all my feelings, all my words and phrases, rendering me lost for words, instead of somber and mournful him.
I hated him then, and I felt the same feeling creeping onto me again and I was frightened all over again.
My heart began to race as I formed tactical solution to avoid talking to him much longer. It'll be detrimental for both of us to carry on talking as I know I would lose my nicely earthed circuit anytime soon. I got in there almost effortlessly and noncontrivingly.
He paused, all giggles halted, all joy faded abruptio, and there was a most uncomfortable, longest, pregnant silence.
I made him promised that he would take his medication without fail and that he would resume his studies only when he feels ready. He asked me if I would call him whenever I am free in the next couple of days.
He told me he missed me and the line went dead, before I could say ditto.
I cupped my face and I slowly succumbed to the gravity pulling my weighted head forward and down. The tug of war between joy and sorrow cut me deep to the core. It's joy in one hand at not only of his ability to feel what missing is like but also his guts to let me know this, but it's grief on the other because I know, that he never asked to be different and he was trying desperately not to be.
He is just not well and he will never be.
My body was shaken, I found myself straining a choking laughter, but at the same time, tears escaped my lacrimal duct.
Lesson re learnt for the hundreth time: Think twice before calling somebody a schizo or a spazzer, he/she is always somebody's brother or sister and the list goes on.
I received a most disturbing phone call tonight. I never thought that he would call ever, but he did.
The fact that sometime tonight, this soul, whose voice I much long to hear, was out there with many other things to do, and amongst the many things that troubled him, had chosen to ring me instead.
This is a guy whom I had known for a long long time. I grew to learn his likes and dislikes. His once perfect almost angelic face, had grown rough, bitter and sullen possibly from the constant battle with melancholy.
His expression could have only been of somebody grieve-ridden over many many winter years, denied of even a flicker of rays of joyful sunlight. Pale and tortured the last time I saw him. I didn't know what went on in his mind then, as he wouldn't let me in and I was made to believe that any purposeful conversation with him would jeopardize the wellbeing of both me and him. So I stayed well away, any vital conversation was kept to bare minimum. It tortured me and I cried inside.
I was surprised to hear a jovial singy-songy tone of voice which I instantly recognized as being his. Although this put an instant smile on my face, I was very quick to ring a bell of curiosity as to why he had called at 4:00 am Malaysia time and why he sounded too happy.
I was touched by the fact that he put an effort into making sure that he was calling at an appropriate time on my part of the world, giving little regards to what the the time he had to call on his part. This is the bit in what's left of old him that I would always remember.
We talked about petty things, and events we've missed since we last saw each other. It seemed surreal, given the fact that on my last trip he wouldn't even talk to me, look at me, eat with me, laugh at my jokes, ask me if I was fine. His participation in my life at that point was far from forthcoming. I almost didn't exist in his world. He didn't send me off at the airport, because he refused point blank.
I was beginning to catch up with his contagiously elated mood bridging into ecstatic hocus pocus. We joked about certain things which happened and I was relieved that he was capable of thinking that it was funny. I didn't want to spoil things by reminding him and me for that matter, of his past but recent behaviour. I want him to be like this for as long as possible.
Just as things beginning to warm up and ooze sense of familiarity and coziness again, he suddenly asked me about a man in a sporty gear who recently paid a visit to his house. He asked if I knew the man. I was very confused and I said I couldn't have possibly, because I haven't been home. He started talking about this man and an association to a Malay College Kuala Kangsar, a subject dear to his heart and I got even more puzzled.
He made no regards for me wallowing through a cobweb of utter confusion. He changed the subject to an intense craving for nasi kerabu and that I should stop by on the way from the airport to get him this.
I was in my mid sentence to reason with him, that I was nowhere near going home yet when his idea suddenly jumped to the subject of his watch, which I bought him for his birthday last year. Oh no make him stop.
He started confabulating about this watch having a dual time frame so that's exactly how he knew what time it was in UK. I know that this was a complete bull. My curiosity grew underneath me and surfaced to meet the other focal of sheer fear for losing his train of thoughts and lose him altogether.
An upheaval heat of confusion was reaching it's boiling point and I was terrified that it would blow completely out of proportion and it would be beyond redemption. I know his birthday is coming soon which might justify why the topic of the watch, but the pressure of speech that came with his flight of ideas hit me in the head just as I was reaching my state of fear of an impending doom.
I listened on and I could hear him laughing and giggling as he went on and on talking about absolutely everything under the sun, hopscotching from this to that and the other. At this point making no sense to me whatso ever. I was jittery.
He was still exactly the same person I left there in the room staring at the floor, apopleptic with no interest, no qualms, no fear, no remorse. Only this time he pendulumed to the exact opposite and was ecstatic instead. Possibly at the thought of him conquering all my feelings, all my words and phrases, rendering me lost for words, instead of somber and mournful him.
I hated him then, and I felt the same feeling creeping onto me again and I was frightened all over again.
My heart began to race as I formed tactical solution to avoid talking to him much longer. It'll be detrimental for both of us to carry on talking as I know I would lose my nicely earthed circuit anytime soon. I got in there almost effortlessly and noncontrivingly.
He paused, all giggles halted, all joy faded abruptio, and there was a most uncomfortable, longest, pregnant silence.
I made him promised that he would take his medication without fail and that he would resume his studies only when he feels ready. He asked me if I would call him whenever I am free in the next couple of days.
He told me he missed me and the line went dead, before I could say ditto.
I cupped my face and I slowly succumbed to the gravity pulling my weighted head forward and down. The tug of war between joy and sorrow cut me deep to the core. It's joy in one hand at not only of his ability to feel what missing is like but also his guts to let me know this, but it's grief on the other because I know, that he never asked to be different and he was trying desperately not to be.
He is just not well and he will never be.
My body was shaken, I found myself straining a choking laughter, but at the same time, tears escaped my lacrimal duct.
Lesson re learnt for the hundreth time: Think twice before calling somebody a schizo or a spazzer, he/she is always somebody's brother or sister and the list goes on.
