little freak

i hold hands with the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen and someone sighs when they see me. “do they have to make everything gay?” she asks her friend, loudly, “like, do you have to force those views in my face all the time?” i can’t stop blushing. my girlfriend holds my fingers tighter, tighter, tighter, until my knuckles are white, and i let her. somehow, this is us, protesting.

my father’s cuban blood stains my skin, i think. when i am honored with a position in the dean’s private council, a boy sneers, “you only got in because you’re hispanic.” did i? i spend the rest of our meetings wondering if i was selected for my stellar academic record, for the multiple recommendations, for the clubs i lead - or if i was just a move the dean made, to make use of me. when we all take a picture, the dean brings me in the front. in the first three we take, i am not smiling.

it is odd. “i exist.” i say, “i deserve to exist.”

it’s been 9 years since i wrote this. i was experiencing 24/7 anxiety so badly that i needed serious medication. these days in the back of my car is an “emergency party box.” when people admit they no longer really celebrate their birthday; i tell them to put the sash on and queue up kesha, we’re going bowling or something. these days i can’t spin around without finding something i am enamored with. these days i list 3 things i’m grateful for before i fall asleep. you’re probably one of them, just by virtue of you existing.

at the time i wrote this, i was suffering through a severe panic attack literally every night. i tortured my brother with constant 2 AM calls just to hear someone else breathing, because i couldn’t be alone in the silence.

i rarely wish i was still 23 even though ironically i had more hope back then. what i can tell you is this: i love the same way, but bigger now. i’ve worn the velvet cape to several business meetings. i spent thursday in a crop top without caring what my stomach looked like.

i told her i like her; i often dress as a witch. i still got glass in my foot this morning. i’ve kissed maybe a thousand people since then and met a million more than that; passing like the shadow of a hammerhead in trains and planes and buses.

i saw you, beloved, there, maybe, on platform in south station. you didn’t speak, but you said: i struggle to give the nothing meaning. the nothing fills up everything. it is just loud and yellowed panicked silence. i can’t stop shaking.

on the roof, birds curl together against the chilled spring wind. the sky outside of the craft store was an iridescent pink. the nothing already had meaning; you are giving it meaning by witnessing.

Well, I figured if I'm gonna get one anyway, I'd rather it be a word than a picture. Then again, I don't particularly like any words.

kamu bangun tepat waktu, di atas tempat tidur busukmu yang di awal. ini bukan tontonan jejepangan bergenre shoujo, ini hidup. ini bukan kisah klise yang anak perempuan damba-dambakan. ini hidup. yang selalu kamu hindari. yang selalu kamu anggap menjijikan. setidaknya kamu bangun tepat waktu dan tidak tidur 16 jam seperti hari-hari biasa. kamu yakin ada sesuatu dalam kehidupan ini yang tidak bisa kamu raih, banyak, bahkan. kamu bukan perempuan berumur 30-an tahun dengan satu orang anak perempuan yang hidup di jepang, kamu bukan protagonis buku Territory of Light milik Yuko Tsushima, tapi ada sesuatu dalam hatimu. ada cinta yang tidak kunjung disiram dan disinari, ada cinta yang terus-menerus terpaksa ditutup, tidak dirangkul namun dikubur, cinta tersebut berubah jadi sesuatu yang sebaik-baiknya jangan diberi nama, manifestasinya terbagi dalam dua bentuk: 1) tangis menjerit berkaok-kaok mengutuk segala hal yang ada, yang disaksikan oleh kedua mata anak perempuanmu; dan 2) tangis tersoak-soak saat telepon tidak tersambung, yang terdengar hanya nada dering untuk meninggalkan pesan nanti, kamu menangis. kamu terduduk, seperti duduk bukanlah pilihan dan gravitasi menarikmu turun, kamu tidak ada tenaga untuk mengutuk siapa-siapa, tidak ada tenaga untuk menjerit seperti biasa—sepertinya ini adalah keuntungan sebab hari sudah malam dan anakmu tidak perlu tidurnya diganggu oleh tangisanmu. kamu menangis. sudah satu jam kamu menangis. masih terduduk. kamu menelepon nomor yang tadi, masih sama, tinggalkan pesan di telepon. masih menangis, tapi ada yang berubah sekarang. kamu berpesan: jangan. jangan... jangan. jangan lakukan ini. sudah tidak ada cinta di antara kita tapi jangan begini. satu hari lagi, beri satu hari lagi lalu hakimi aku di depan semua orang, satu hari lagi. jangan pergi.