Journal Entry 10

I feel strange. I feel as though Hang has not left yet, and if I was to go to Chinh’s during the day, and look at the bed she was sleeping in, I would still see the outline of her tiny body. The fact that she has left has not yet hit me completely, which must be the reason why I am in such a daze. It must be because I have not felt so strongly about anything for such a long time; it is taking my body time to adjust to the fact that I am once again alone. Sometimes, when I think about yesterday, I wish I had said more. I wish I hadn’t stayed so casual, I mean there was practically no chance of us seeing each other again, so why not tell her how I feel. Maybe it could have opened new doors, maybe she would have decided to stay, or come again, or ask me to come with her. Again, I’m getting stuck on the maybes. Yet, it’s impossible not to get stuck on the maybes, not to think about the things that could have happened if everything had played out differently.

What if I had told her my feelings? Most probably, she doesn’t see me the way I see her, so  she would have rejected me. Would I be in a worse situation that I’m in now? Is it better to know that our relationship is impossible than to constantly fantasize about things that could have been? I don’t know, but it feels good to be thinking of something other than my life, better to think imaginary dreams that be faced with harsh realities.

Ever since I met Hang, I haven’t been thinking about the man I saw die, nor have I been thinking about my family back home. Not that the shame has receded in any way, not that I can yet forgive myself for everything I’ve done, but it’s nice to think about other things. To have ones mind automatically go to pleasant places instead of falling into an abyss of sadness is different; it breaks the monotony of life.   

Today, all I did was walk to the rose garden and contemplate the flowers. How beautiful nature is when one is in love. The folds of the roses, so intricate in design, left me breathless, breathless and longing for Hang. How I long to hold her slight body in my arms, to feel the lightness of her bones, the warmth radiating from her skin, to take a deep breath and never let go. I’ve been with other women before, I’ve held them, smelled them and told them that I loved them, but I realize now that all that was nothing. This longing for someone who I’ve only shaken hands with is different; it fills my very being and makes me feel as though my heart may explode any minute.

Thinking so about one thing has made me sleepy. I fall asleep praying that when I wake she might be next to me.