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Tenor Sax: She can't play off her right hand...

Watch Mingyu on Luang-ta Maha-chon ; on Saturday, September 09, 2017 Live Stream: ♡  (8:45 am ICT ; 10:45 am KST)  [raw] Episode 1:  ♡

So maybe I didn’t go to the gym as much as I wanted. I went with tyler and it was fun going whenever we did because we complained together but I taught him things and this is a start of a good gym buddy system. So maybe I did get fucked over and had no clarinet this week to practice. But now my baby is oiled and cleaned and ready to go. I need to spend a lot of time on him this week!! And so what? Maybe I didn’t get to go out of the city but I spent this week with great company. I built a bigger friendship with Chris and Tyler. I hung out with Kim again <3 and I got to drink wine and be cute with them all.

dear angel,

today is my birthday.

on christmas i clicked on an old folder of photos and coincidentally they opened up on christmas photos of you. you were sleeping peacefully with your paw on the ball that i gifted you. you really were the sweetest cat i've ever known.

i hope you are with me wherever i go, with whoever im with.

dear angel,

a lot has happened since we last spoke, or maybe it’s just because i took so long to write to you. i’m sorry, i never feel like i have the strength.

i finally went back to san francisco last month to get the rest of the stuff i left behind. i’d felt excited about going back to the west coast, but when i got there it wasn’t the same. because the last time i lived there, i was in college, and i had friends, and i had you. i was different, too. not just younger but... happy, maybe. like i felt like we finally found a place where we belong.

maybe it’s because you’re gone now, but there’s something different about the sun over there. it’s not as bright. the places i used to go are just places now, everything slightly askew, like it tried to put itself together from my memory, but it can’t because there are pieces of san francisco that i’ll never get back. 

i miss you. the old suitcases from almost a decade ago had some of your things in them. cat hair, too. i’d almost forgotten how much it was, how it stuck to every single thing i owned... how normal that was. even now, there are hairs that i find from time to time, but i fear that i’m almost at the point where i’ll finally get rid of the last one and it’ll be like we were never together. 

i wish i could go back to the old days. to the dorms, to the friends who got to meet you and hang out during the parties. you in your little bow tie, us hiding in our bunk beds, taking in the sun at my drawing desk, the wide open space; everything i’d ever wanted for you. i wish i could have given you more, the world isn’t enough. 

it’s crazy how much things change, how quickly it changes but how long it takes to realize that it’s happened. i can’t believe that it’s already been almost ten years since we landed in the airport, waited for the train. i think i had a lot of dreams then. i think i believed i could reach them, too. you made me feel like i could do anything.

but you’re gone, and the sun is behind a screen, and the buildings are out of sequence, and the plane back to new york city left me empty. 

i hope some of my happiest memories were also yours. i hope you had a good birthday month this may, too. i thought about it every single day but i just didn’t know what to say to you. and i could cry honestly, because i lost count already with how old you would have been if i didn’t have to send you away. 

next month will be three years since you died. 

dear angel,

 happy new years. i have covid, and it hasn’t been a very happy one for me. it’s been nothing but terrible, and i am angry.

dear angel,

 it’s been seventeen years since we met. 

an august seventeen years ago i held you in my hands for the first time, and i have loved you ever since. seventeen years, two of which you are dead, and already the anniversary dates almost slip me by as if my grief isn’t making me ache every single day. 

i hate it so much, i hate forgetting. 

i want to remember the way your fur felt against my palm, your meow, the little things you used to do that were unique to you, the things we used to talk about.

i’ve already lost so much, and i just keep losing more. 

what else can i lose in my grief? 

why is there no way to keep you from dying in the only ways i still have you left?

i need you here with me. i will never be able to do very well without you. 

every day is the question of how long i will keep putting myself up to it.