tastes like self-loathe

my christmas secret

Jiā,

I can never tell you why I frowned instead of crying from joy when you gave me my second bouquet of flowers. Did the first one even count? It seemed to lack the sentiments, yet I framed it in the old picture frame that opens like a book.

You didn’t give it to me, of course. It was given by adults who cheered at me during graduation. Even then, I had this stirring discomfort disguised by obliviousness when unnie took a photo of my friend that sat beside me during speech. The camera was facing my way, she was beside me-it was facing her way too.

It was simply my ignorance to think that someone as pretty as unnie would want to take a picture of me. We aren’t even close. But didn’t we have a good time when we had lunch together for our team building exercise? Didn’t she recommend a book saying she wanted to talk to me about it?

It’s a mistake to think of kindness as an invitation for intimacy.

I don’t want to feel like I’m worth more than what I think I am to anyone, at that point I’m just setting myself up for a joke-for I can’t fathom myself to be valuable.

So when you went out of your way to get me those roses and write a card, i couldn’t do anything else but feel annoyed.

Couldn’t you see?

I don’t want your flowers. I don’t want your handwritten card. But I’m supposed to take it and I did because it’s rude to give something back when that something is clearly important to the one who gave it.

Jiā is transparent. That’s what I think.

I could get you. I could understand your reasoning. I’m not close to half at figuring you out but I’m narcissistic enough to think that your behavior gives something away.

We all give a little of our self away for others to nitpick.

do you know people who give half of what they have for others because it’s the only way they can tell how they care? I think you’re like that. I think sometimes I am like that. But intimacy is something strange and foreign, so I put a leash around its neck and bring it wherever i go, glancing just a little behind to make sure it doesn’t jump up at me.

Is it also narcissistic for me to assume that you did it for all the reasons except that it’s purely because you could? And that you might’ve not even given it another meaningful thought.

See how I’m overthinking about a simple rose? It’s laughable. But it’s not just about flowers. And for a long time I’ve known that it also wasn’t just about whose face she’s capturing in her camera.

It’s because I’m a hypocrite. I preach relationships because they’re messy and rich and adds fun to your life but I’m actually pretty scared of attachments.

It’s like walking a tight rope. Hope is thinking that there’s a trampoline beneath you, so whenever you feel like falling, something ought to catch you and fly you back on the line-but it’s not like that, there aren’t any trampoline. Just cold hard floor.

So I’m sorry if you thought that I don’t appreciate you going out of your way to give me roses. Of course I’m glad you got them.

But Jiā, i might’ve grown to hate flowers. I’ve been famished enough to puke all of it out when I taste one of its petals.

❏

just a regular letter that went astray. Issi decided to stash it inside the drawer.