Sparkling Math

It's funny; they say the only reason they endure each other is for the kids. That when I'm in college, they'd get a divorce. That when I graduate, they'd get a divorce. Or when I'm abroad. Last time I came back, I asked them if they still fight. I mean they don't really talk to each other, and every time we call them up they'd complain about the other one; but apparently, nothing really happens anymore. All those years fighting, perhaps they're too old for it now. Maybe they finally grew up. Or maybe they were young once. Sometimes I hear them singing karaoke, and they'd sing those ancient love songs from the 60s with the scratchy mono recordings. I wonder for whom; they don't seem like the romantic type - they never tell me about how they met, or their love stories and adventures. But they were young once.

I was terrified every time I go home. Afraid that one word, one thing I do wrong would trigger a fight. They were very good at that - looking for a reason to fight. I'd do some tiny thing that upset them, and they'd yell at me, but there's an underlying implication that they direct at the other one. Vietnamese are good at that; say one thing but means two. I learned to be alert, be on edge, not to upset them, regulate the emotions of two adults. Because if I fail, it'd be my fault that it's falling apart. At least it felt like it. My sister said it's better they fall apart; but I didn't want to. I was just a child.

I'm older now. Not saying I overcame everything completely; deep down, I'm forever that child. But I learned to mask the initial response. Doesn't always work, but it's getting better, and I know. It's very important to know your shortcoming, instead of acting like it doesn't exist anymore.

I haven't written for some time. Writing is cathartic for me; it helps reorganizing my thoughts and navigating through my turmoil. But sometimes, things can be too overwhelming, that it might be too foreboding to write. Perhaps one of those moment is now, but I'm trying to squeeze these words out anyway. Maybe I'll get somewhere at the end of it.

I don't know why I keep doing this to myself. Coming back to the same old place. I should have known better. I thought I knew how to regulate my emotion, and will not fall for the same thing. But I find myself checking the phone again and again for one last text.

I know she's not for me. I know she's not into me. It's funny, I keep telling myself that they're making a mistake, that they will regret not being able to fall for me. How arrogant. Am I really such a good person? Not really I think, when I really introspect. I think I did not always come from the best intentions. But some people say that me being able to retrospect and rethink my behavior means I'm not that bad. Oh well, in any case. I am here, suffering from my own deeds. Sometimes there are reason to believe that they do regret. But I doubt it.

It's difficult to express my masculinity. I admit it. I'm shy. I just... shrink. I never seem to grasp the chance at the right time. Act the right way. But it's ok. In a way, I am used to it. To letting go. It's good.

Love is such a strange word. I don't know why we use the same word for parental love and romantic love. But they are in many ways, similar. You sacrifice and prioritze someone, eventually at the very least, unconditionally.

I don't know. It doesn't seem to work so well. I feel cluttered again. I will write another time.

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