Wait wait, I changed my mind. Donāt tell me. Iād rather not know. Please donāt share that information with me. Donāt tell me your feelings. I canāt take that on right now. Because youāre asking me to care and caring is heavy. It comes natural to me. I wish I could dismiss your feelings of distress, fear, doubt, loneliness, and anger more easily. Whatās that? You never thought that I cared? Why? Cause I didnāt react the way you wanted me to react? Because I didnāt show it the way you hoped I would? Youāre probably right. Iām not too good at that. I internalize things. Iām a man. Iām Asian. Not excuses. Just reminding you. Wait, before you start on your rant about being a man and Asian culture, you know I cared tho right? And somehow that caring turned into me closing up even more, getting colder, and you saw that as me not caring at all.
When my younger sister was diagnosed with cancer in her mid-20s, I just ran away. I didnāt know how to deal with it. So I wasnāt there. I tried to behind being busy with work. I didnāt realize I was doing it. Later on we talked about it. She forgave me. When I broke down and cried sitting at a table at a cancer fundraiser. She said we all have our own ways of dealing with things. I cared a lot. I was scared. I hated feeling helpless, useless, powerless like there was nothing I could do. I couldnāt beat up my younger sisterās cancer. Thatās what older brothers do for their younger sisters. I cared. Thatās why I was scared. Thatās why I ran away. But of course it would come off that I didnāt care. Dad sent me an email during the day at work about how he was feeling about the cancer and I was dismissive. Told him that I had so much to deal with and him sending emails like that really threw off my day when I had to focus on what I had to do. Dad, if youāre reading this, Iām really sorry. I was in my mid-20s. I thought the world I figured out revolved around me. Again, not an excuse. An explanation.
Itās possible that we donāt know how to care. Not caring is popular. I donāt give a fuck about you or anything that you do. Thatās shouted over and over at parties. Celebrate life. By not giving a fuck. About anything. Except yourself. No one really teaches you how to care. Naturally we feel something when we witness things that resonate with us. That touches us. Yesterday me, Phil, Vinny, and Jocelyne were talking about songs that can make you cry. The talk started because I asked if Phil had ever cried at a concert. Automatically we associate crying with sadness. But tears of joy do exist. I donāt cry much. I tear up once in awhile. Movies, especially docs will do that. A really great sermon or the jovial big guy with the booming voice who sings solo at my church. I can remember most of the times that Iāve cried as an adult. Like real cry. We think thatās the ultimate symbol of caring. We say someone ābroke downā and cried. Iāve had girls accuse me of not caring because I didnāt cry about something that they think I shouldāve cried. Maybe I did. In private. I also donāt know what to do when someone cries. Are you supposed to hold them? I donāt remember what it was like for me as a kid. I got spanked. Hearing stories about my behavior makes me think I deserved it.
You argue. You get angry. You say things. Hurtful things. Things you regret later. They crie. At that moment youāre still angry. Do you go in for the kill? Do you back off? Do you console them? Do you apologize for making them cry? Did you make them cry? Are you supposed to care? Itās hard to convince someone that you care about them when theyāre crying. A woman crying in public is one of the saddest scenes. Especially on the train. You have no idea what youāre supposed to do. Donāt want to be seen as the creepy guy trying to make a move on a vulnerable woman. Youāre supposed to mind your business right? My ex used to tell them, āItās going to be OK.ā Never asked why they were crying. Guess it doesnāt matter. Thatās not our business. But a little compassion. A little care. Sure, thatās free. Itās going to be OK.
I care. I care a lot. Sometimes more than I wish I did. I envy some of my friends who seem to go on with their lives with less care about things. Doesnāt mean theyāre careless or cold. They just donāt let other peopleās troubles trouble them. I donāt do that very well. Another friend of mine seems to carry the weight of the world with him at all times. The ability to feel things deeply isnāt something I want to discard. Oh shit, I feel something. I cut my big toe nails too short and sometimes I have to slowly pull it off. And it catches a piece of my skin. And it bleeds a tad. Thereās a cool, breezy feeling there after. I feel like I cut my toe nail. You think it sounds sadistic? I donāt care. Itās like after a great workout and you feel sore, you feel like you really achieved something. Iām getting worried because I think my body is getting used to the 1 mile swims. Now I gotta go longer. Because I donāt feel the pain. Which means more time. Which is something weāre all after.
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