It’s nice out here after it’s rained. Everything looks new and shiny – reborn, don’t you think? Well, of course you agree, you’ve always been the one to skip to the window whenever it rained, to watch the water pour down in sheets, like the earth and sky had become one. I’ve never cared much for it, but over this past year I have started noticing these simple pleasures, even searching for them.
You wouldn’t believe it, but today, when I was starting out for my walk…oh yes, that’s true actually, I’ve started going for walks in the morning. Don’t laugh. I know I always resisted it, never waking up on time, but things had become pretty bad. I struggled to climb the two floors to our house. So, anyway, this morning when I went, guess who gave me company? Teju, that’s right. I think he’s finally forgiven me. Boy, the looks he’d give me every morning and evening, like I’d hit him, or worse, hit you. He loves you very much, he still misses you, I know. Every so often I see him looking at our balcony like you’ll appear one day. That collar you put on him is still there. But, it’s in tatters and I probably should replace it. He followed me a bit of the way to the compound gate and then watched me go off to the park. I’m glad at least one of your friends has forgiven me.
The other day I was buying some running shorts, and I saw Anamika. She was with her boyfriend, or maybe husband now. I panicked, I didn’t want her to see me. I get scared whenever I see someone from the old days. I don’t know what I expect them to do. Hit me? Scream at me? Humiliate me? Actually, they don’t even need to do that. Just the quivering glare that I have received from some of them in the past was enough to pierce me through and through. I wish I could explain how sorry I am, but I don’t even try. I don’t deserve their understanding, or anyone else’s. I tell myself that if they hate me that vehemently, it’s only because they love you that dearly, and that’s a nice thought. They all still look out for you – best friends through thick and thin.
I know, I know, I’m late again today. You don’t have to remind me. The florist had stepped out leaving his idiot assistant in the shop. I told him I wanted thirteen long-stemmed roses, but he gave me twelve with the stems cut off. He hadn’t even removed the thorns, which I learned the hard way. So, I had to shout at him and send him back to get the right ones. I stood there sucking my thumb like an angry baby. The guy came back with twelve again, he just couldn’t fathom that someone wanted thirteen.
Yeah, I know he doesn’t know our story, sure, I get that. But he doesn’t need to get it. Thirteen means something to us. For him it’s just a clear instruction. Plain and simple. I mean, why overthink and underperform on your basic job? By the way, I know I said I wouldn’t give you flowers ever. I cringe when I think of how obstinate I’ve been. But, anyway, I’ve decided to start a small garden in the house. I’m using the same flower pots you’d got. I removed the dead plants, recharged the soil, and I got some seeds today. Next time hopefully I’ll bring some pictures and you can tell me how it’s going.
So, anyway, when I finally managed to get out of there I was already late. But, believe me it wasn’t my fault. I know how you feel if I keep you hanging, and I make a conscious effort now to be mindful about your time.
You know I don’t try to purposely get late anymore. There’s nothing left to prove anymore. I used to get carried away, to put it mildly. I couldn’t say no to another drink with my friends, or to the boss’ last urgent email. It seemed to me back then that if I went home on time I would look like one of those guys who had handed over the whip and reins to his wife. Then people would joke about it, and you know I don’t like being laughed at.
God’s sake, how dumb was I back then? All those people I used to worry about now have wives and children, they all leave work on time, and they all look – well, frankly happy about it. And you know what’s funny? After you went away, everybody at work became concerned about my well-being, and started telling me to leave early, or take a break, to take care of myself. I didn’t deserve it, I wanted to tell them. And what would be the point of going early to a home without you? I ended up continuing to stay late at work most days to avoid that. I couldn’t face home after you left.
Did I ever look happy to you? All those days you opened the door with a smile, or sometimes a kiss, did I ever offer a smile in return? You would wait all day for me, wondering about what we’d do, things we’d talk about, hoping we’d open the bottle of wine that was lying around since our honeymoon. You had your own thing back then and if you were anything like me you wouldn’t have taken any time during the day to even think once about me. But, you weren’t. And you aren’t. I know even now, with everything that’s happened, you can still spare a thought for me. That’s why we’re even here after everything that has happened.
I was the luckiest man in the world, and I refused to see it.
Sometimes, I open up some of your old articles and read them. They remind me of what a small world I had made for myself. A small world where I was king. The smaller, the better. I didn’t know what was happening in the larger world, I never cared. What does it matter what somebody said or did three continents and oceans away when I didn’t even care about the person I shared my bed with. I cannot claim I’m a smarter man now, but, I do try. When I read your articles I learned from them something about how you saw the world and thought about it.
It’s incredible how much you cared about what happens to others. You witnessed so much apathy and grief, and you bravely called out those responsible. And I know you offered solutions as well, not just raise complaints like most people. Journalism wasn’t just a job for you, it was a calling. You truly wanted to use the power of your words for good, I can see that in the passionate appeal of every word you wrote. You had once told me that you want to be the voice for the voiceless. And instead of supporting you, and applauding you, I heartlessly mocked you for your idealism. You showed me something so pure and beautiful in you, and I responded by trying to sully it with some apathy, just so I could feel superior. When, clearly, I was a pretty miserly soul.
Oh hey, I completely forgot, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. So you remember your colleague – who’s the one with the curly hair – Aarti? She sent a postcard for you from Australia. She’s doing well and all, but I guess the news didn’t reach her that you don’t live at that address anymore. Oh, but – God damn it, I forgot to bring it. Let me describe it to you. It’s one of those custom postcards, where you put your own picture on it. This one has her and her husband and kids on Bondi Beach and it says, “Wish you were here”. On the back she’s written about how she misses you and that you should plan a trip to Sydney and stay with her. What she didn’t write, but must really have been hoping you’d understand, was that you should go alone.
Do you think you can? Don’t laugh, I wasn’t being funny. Maybe travelling is easier for you now, how would I know. I certainly can’t stop you like before, so why shouldn’t you. I promise I won’t follow you and ruin your vacation. Go, go, enjoy in good health.
Speaking of good health, your parents are doing better. I mean, that’s what I heard. I asked the guard. Of course, they wouldn’t meet me. Naturally. If there’s anyone who I feel sorry for more than me, it’s them. What’s that? For you? I suppose I do, but I also think living without you is harder than living without me. You really mean something, you’re worth something. Losing you is like losing sunshine. Losing me? Well, that’s just good riddance.
It’s really hard somedays, you know? I feel like my heart is just trying to tear itself out of my chest, and it’s the heaviest, strangest kind of pain. I lock myself in and just howl and cry. I want to punish myself, hurt myself, but also save myself. I want to make amends because otherwise I’m doomed. I miss you so much, bitterly, and I know none of it means anything unless I make amends.
I know it’s strange that I’m discussing this with the very person who I destroyed. You owe me no sympathy. But, I have no one else. Not a single person else who can still look at me like I’m human. Nobody has any concern for me, so who else but you will even tell me if I’m doing the correct things? I’m trying, every day, bit by bit. I am trying to be better. And the only one who can tell me if that’s true, if I’m true, is you.
Yes, I know you don’t owe me any answers. But, you’d tell me if I was still not doing enough right? No, you’re right. I shouldn’t be asking. No easy answers in life.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m making a scene aren’t I? Those people are looking at me. Let me wipe my face, it must look ridiculous. A snot-nosed fool.
You should know, though, that I haven’t had any human contact for months now. No hug, no kiss, not even a handshake. People don’t know how to treat me anymore, and I’m just a dummy if front of people now. The bed is just a mess because I never get any sleep, the sheets are never tucked in because I keep pulling them out when tossing and turning. I keep reaching out for you, which is a bloody joke. When you would try and hold me while sleeping I would just grunt and move away, it is a big bed after all. And now that I have nothing to hold anymore, I wish I hadn’t always deserted you. Tit for Tat.
Hey, listen I get it, I get it. I’ll change the subject, don’t leave. The neediness gets annoying.
I didn’t tell you, I started looking for some hobby classes online. Writing, designing kind of stuff. Nothing that takes all day, and nothing that involves meeting people. Small steps for now. I think it’s a decent start. A little something to look forward to and feel good. In fact, I signed up for some online Spanish classes. Como estas? You always wanted us to learn. So, I thought what the hell, why not? Maybe we can start all over again in a new language. Bueno?
Yeah, I know it’s a lame joke. But, why are you laughing so hard then? It’s good, I’ll make any stupid joke now to hear you laugh a little. Life has been unbearably quiet since you, well, (and I still don’t like saying it), since you breathed your last.
So, here we are. Back here after a year. I’ve got us some coffee because I know we’ll be here for some time longer. It’s the Vietnamese one you loved, the one we had on our honeymoon. I’ll pour you a cup.
Do you like them though? The roses? There’s twelve for the years we’d been together, and now one for the year we’ve been apart. Twelve for the years I didn’t care, and one for the year I did.