|i like you in the way i don't know how to say goodbye
||[May. 19th, 2016|11:45 pm]
almost 3 weeks into this familiar yet new country and the word transience continues to pervade my mind. it's funny because from the time i signed up for this i knew what i was getting into - the novelty of meeting new people i would hardly get the chance to meet again, the hopes of keeping in touch when reality does not always keep those promises for you (neither do you too), exploring new places new people new new new and yet i still find myself falling into the arms of familiarity that cradles me like a child. it's not the familiarity that heals my homesickness (i do not feel that 3 weeks in still), the familiarity that shuts me off from putting my foot across that comfort zone but a familiarity that i find in new faces and thoughts and experiences and feelings (and shadows of your past that flicker as you motobike past yellow saigon street lamps)
it's how i am welcomed warmly into a house accommodated by people far away from home,yet try so hard to make me not miss home too much (i dont) it's how i crash vacation trips because my arrival coincides with their travel plans and i see glimpses of my family in that province in the central highlands - the bulging belly of a father who brushes it off as a "1 ab", the mother who insists she is the flower on a pile of shit that is her husband, how they wake up at 4am to ensure we leave safely packed with enough essentials... hear the crunch of stones by wheels on the dusty roads, the free roaming chickens waking everyone at 5am and small houses that get renovated into bigger newer ones from sheer hard work and it flashes before my eyes like sounds in water: simplicity all around and unceasing familial love.
in the city there is a grandmother who chose to move there and live alone and praises me for taking that step to travel and make new experiences on my own, a large house where 5 kids stayed up all night playing murderer despite the language barrier trying hard not to wake the house up and get caught for staying up and drinking beer
back in saigon it becomes a habit where i am a piece of furniture and she lays on me, slings her arms/legs over my back/stomach as playful banters are heard throughout the night. her housemate is generous with food and meals are always delicious and all tell me a piece of themselves back at home and here in saigon and change is all around before you even know it your blood flows in your body is made new and suddenly you aren't the same person when you were back home or a mere 1 year ago
and there's someone who reminds me a lot of everything, and yet nothing at all. no butterflies, no gazes that linger too long, or embraces to remind you that time is short feel it in all now. i see you everyday, and we just want to (even if i get burnt on the motorbike engine i still want to see the saigon city landscape at dusk, and hear you talk about how you come here to scream it all out) because there's no surging or anything more but a tranquility that comes with your company and incessant anecdotes. there're the inevitable promises of the future, but also the inevitable fear that comes with the possibility of forgetting, and the hurt that comes when the time to say goodbye draws near... the hurt that comes when i tell you not to come
(how do you even say goodbye)