Thursday, October 18, 2012

mumbling from asylum

You know, there's a word that keep ringing in my mind.  It's like an echo, the only difference is that this sound never fade.  But when I tried to write it down, a train of many thoughts will push that sound away.  It's like a butterfly that you'd never catch. 

I love girls.  When I was young, I noticed them quite early in my age.  That was a wonderful feeling then.  I would be so giddy going home to tell my mom, I like that girl, or that one, or the other one.  It is weird I never told me dad.  My mom and sister both felt funny about it.  Yeah, I like different girls every two years, since we change class every two grades in elementary. 

When I get older, that feeling did not recede at all.  But now it mixed up with hormones.  I had hard time to discern which is which.  It was okay in the middle school, since I was busy playing with friends.  When I came to USA, I think the situation was a bit more dire.  It was high school, and US girls do not have dress code.  In other words, they can make themselves even prettier.  Their attitude were more lively.  But I was in a more awkward position.  I am short, cannot really speak smoothly, and I like them.  It was painful. 

I distracted myself with sports.  That was till the best thing.  I am not good at anything in high school really, nothing special about English, history, science, computer.  There might be a slight edge in Math, but again, it's only because I was not good at anything else.  I love basketball.  That seemed to be the only thing I remember this days that I was okay.  But since I was too short, I can't make the team. 

The first day in school, I immediately met a girl.  That's not mention her name.  If there's anything I remembered that day, it was her smile.  As big and shining as sun outside. To start to tell the story.  I would start with that smile. 

It's been a long while since I saw that smile.  I was lonely and in a really bad place.  I was so lonely.  I would sit in a room and explode, and nobody would know.  The only thing good that came out of that loneliness was that I had a lot of time to reminiscent.  I did not need to care about right or wrong.  I let fancy get hold of me.  But the only thing that constantly came up was that big sunny smile.  I missed it terribly.  I wonder how come I did not talk to her more.  I wonder why I did not advance.  No, I don't wonder.  I know.  Whenever I liked a girl, I kept a distance.  I was afraid.  I was petrified.  They always made my heart jump a bit faster.  I reasoned, I had a weak heart.  To be in close proximity with them was not good for my health.  Yes, that's the reasoning.  It's a lot easier to play basketball, and be with other people.

But a lonely time made me wonder deeper.  And now, I had time to regress, which lead to regret.   For a mathematician, my way of expression was through numbers.  So I devised a huge and complicated equations.  After so many X's, Y's, plus and minus, I suddenly had an idea.  What if there's a machine, that I could extract my memory of that big shiny smile out of brain.  Wouldn't that be wonderful?  I was alone in this prison.  I did not seem to have photogenic memory, this is the only way I could make my memory available to me in clear pictures with sounds as well.  I could hear her voices, with her faces.  Even it's just a very short fragrant pieces.  Just to see her face, to hear her voices.  I imagine I would be comforted.  I would be rejoiced. 

Did I love her?  Love is such a big idea.  I don't know.  I don't think so.  I did not really know that girl.  But how much I wish I'd fall in love with her, then love her.  But I love girls.  How could I be sure that I would not love somebody else?  It was and is confusing.  But I believe if I saw that smile and voice laughing, it would be great.  I don't need to be afraid that I would disappoint anyone.  I love her, it is a sad phrase.  I constantly had wet dreams about all these pretty girls I met in DVDs, TV shows, and Ads.  I probably mixed feeling of like and hormones.  But how could I be certain of that?  I love her?  Oh, well, let me love an illusion.  Right?  Better than not loved at all. 

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