Unreciprocated

Ash, a Malaysian Indian girl, writes a draft email trying to explain why she cannot attend her best friend's twin brother's wedding.

New Draft

Dear Liyana,

I've never asked for much, you know. My whole life, I've lived by the principle that if you work hard and never give up, you can control your own destiny. You can't fault me for believing that - every movie and book made for children says that same thing, one way or another. And in many ways I've proven it true. Through sheer effort, I've made myself a law student at a very good university, a beloved daughter and a person who doesn't despise the way she looks. I'd happily pass on the adage, albeit with two, crucial exceptions.

You can control anything in life with enough time, effort and money, anything except biology and emotion. For example, if someone you love is dying of a certain incurable cancer, there's very little your will can do to fix the situation. I learned that when my aunt passed away. Beyond technological innovations there is very little we can do to overcome genetic conditions, hormonal imbalances or debilitating physical injury. Sad, yes. But it is not biology I have qualms with today.

It is that fickle beast, emotion. I cannot tell you how much of my life I've wasted trying to... to extract certain emotions from a particular person. I know how it sounds. But if I could just explain how I felt during all those years and how I feel now, I think you could understand. I'm not a piece of s**t. You know that. I know you know that.

I'll cut the crap. Zul is the particular person I am talking about. Your twin brother. The brother whose wedding you have just invited me, your best friend, to attend. I know your parents will be disappointed, but I can't go. Hopefully, this email will thorougly explain why.

When did this all begin, you ask? Was I ever really your friend or was it all a ruse to get your brother to like me? Fret not, Liyana. I knew we would be sisters long before I fell for Zul. You see, you have always proved my principle correct. After another physical education class spent lazily whacking a shuttlecock across a droopy net, I saw you in the changing room, trying and failing to pin your headscarf neatly around your head. So I made an effort, I decided to be kind. While you held the cloth in place, I carefully inserted the pin between the folds, tucking away strands of stray hair behind your cheek. We must've looked like the perfect National Day TV advert, you and I. A clumsy, adorable Malay schoolgirl and her witty, Indian classmate. A living portrait of our country. Beautiful, multicultural Malaysia.

Ha.

Anyway, the takeaway is I put in work and I made a friend for life - principle affirmed. If only if it were as easy with your brother. The first time he and I really spoke I was twelve years old. I still thought all boys in real life were repulsive and as you know, my heart only had room for Danny Phantom, the half-boy half-ghost from Nickelodeon. I hated his stupid cartoon goth girlfriend so much.

You and I were in the park, on the swingset, talking about something I can no longer remember. He was playing football with his friends. Without a shirt on. A creepy observation for 20 year old me to make, but fair game for 12 year old me, I suppose. He walked towards us because he was thirsty, and he wanted to use your water bottle. You wouldn't give it to him, so I gave him mine. You may find this either sweet or disturbing, but that smile he gave me, that gleaming, gracious toothy smile, it burnt itself into my brain, and sometimes I still feel it.

All this cannot come accross as too surprising to you considering the fact you and your family so thoroughly endorsed the narrative of me and Zul being together. How many times did you tell me to marry him just so we could be aunts to each other's children? How many times did your mother pinch my cheeks and call me daughter in law? How many times did your father laugh or smile at something I did, and then say, 'What a clever girl. That's the kind of girl you need, Zul.' Zul and I both would cringe, grimace, roll our eyes, but deep inside I was thrilled, esctatic.

My parents were less excited. They didn't fancy their daughter becoming a Muslim convert. But I didn't care, I was prepared. I stole your Koran a couple times. Practiced wrapping your scarves around my head. I got better at it than you. I saw it as a sacrifice I was destined to make for your brother.

When Zul and I got closer in secondary school, I thought my destiny was following its natural path. My concerned parents always asked what I got in return from all those evenings I came over to help him with Chemistry. I could never tell them how your brother's laugh at my array of rehearsed jokes meant more to me that all the pocket money in the world. After we went over the Chemistry, because we still had time to kill before you got home from dance class, we'd watch Glee. Why? I liked some of the songs and I thought Cory Monteith was pretty cute. Zul never complained.

I know being a fan of Kurt Hummel does not automatically make one an LGBT rights activist, but I felt like one at the time. "I can't believe people can be so cruel," I'd say. Looking back, it was laughable how I was condemning American bullies while living in a country where sodomy was punishable by imprisonment. Zul was always hesistant to hop onto my pro-rainbow bandwagon, and I always thought it was because he came from a conservative Muslim family and these things were just harder for him to swallow.

I realised the truth a year later. It was season 5 of Glee and we were sixteen. He turned to me mid-episode, and paused the TV. "You know how Brittany likes both boys and girls?" he asked me. I nodded. "Do you... ever feel that way?" he continued, cautiously. I grinned. I had just read about the Kinsey scale online and was feeling like an expert on the topic. "Sexuality is a spectrum, Zul," I say, like a smartass, "it's scientifically proven." "Please don't tell anyone," he said to me, "Not even Liyana, okay?" I nod again, more eagerly than before.

I'm sorry for keeping this from you so long, Liyana. And I guess I'm also sorry to Zul for finally breaking this very old promise.

"Well... then I feel like, I fit somewhere on the spectrum... Somewhere in the middle." I stared at him with glazy eyes, touched by his vulnerability, by his honesty. I grab his shoulders. "I won't tell a soul," I tell him, and yes I'm breaking that promise right now, but I also tell him, "I'll always have your back, Zul. I'll always protect you.' That's a promise I have never broken, and will never break.

Maybe, as his twin, you always knew, but never said it aloud. I don't know how you feel about this. But I can tell you how I felt at the time.

I felt that as his secretkeeper, I was the holder of his heart and soul, the only one who really knew him, the only one he could ever be with. After all, I had his life, his reputation in my hands. Why would he give me so much unless... unless there was something between us?

Of course, if I was right about any of this, Zul would not now be marrying someone else, and Jason Tan wouldn't have been such a goddamned thorn in my seventeen year old side.

Oh the questions you must have. Don't you love Jason? Isn't he like your best friend, aside from moi, of course? And what does Jason have to do with Zul and the reason you can't come to the wedding?

Yes, yes and everything.

You'll remember high-school Jason had nicely gelled hair, nice smelling deoderant and generally looked like a toned down version of a K-pop star. It is little wonder the uncouth brutes at our school were so unkind to him when he first moved to our town. During one particular lunch break in our penultimate year of highschool, I went back into our classroom to get a bag of chips I had left behind. Expecting the class to be empty, I was surprised to find Jason there, cornered by a pack of bullies from the senior year. They were screaming 'f*g' at his face and roughing him up. Maybe its because I have some repressed aggressive tendencies or maybe its because I love your brother and hence am really touchy about this stuff, but I grabbed a classroom chair, sneaked up behind one of the guys and whacked him really, really hard. Blood splattered everywhere. He fell to his knees. "Do you think any teacher here will believe the top student just did that?" I say to them, a demonic look on my face. I pause, appreciating their stunned silence. "I thought so. Now f**k off."

They scram, Jason gathers his breath. We hug, and I know, just like I knew with you, that Jason would be a friend for life. I never told you this story because I thought it would freak you out. Liyana, I wish I was lying when I say the freakiest part of this confession has yet to come.

Months pass, Jason proves to be a football god, and he doesn't get bullied anymore. The four of us, you, me, Jason and Zul, we feel unbreakable, invincible. I see a future where Zul and I are in our thirties with precious children and we throw dinner parties in our penthouse and you and Jason show up with flowers and good side dishes to compliment my menu.

You and I are partnered for a History project. Your parents are out of town so you invite me to come over so we can play loud music, eat junk and finish our project at the eleventh hour. At this point my parents know your house is my second home and vice versa, so I get the greenlight from them. I go to your house straight after school, and as usual, your stupid dance class lasts till 6pm so I'm meant to loiter about till you get home. Bored, I wonder if Zul is home, and I stroll upstairs. His bedroom door is left a little open, so I step in - "Hey Zul-"

Your brother is tangled up with Jason on the bed. They see me. I see them. "It's o-okay guys," I stutter, "You're fine. No one knows. You're fine, you're safe, you're fine." I shut the door tightly behind me and go back downstairs. I feel really numb. I always knew Jason was gay, heck everyone knew, but my delusion had prevented me from seeing the obvious. Zul had picked Jason over me. Me, his confidante, his TV pal, his tutor, his provider of water when he needed it most.

I had fucked up dreams that night, Liyana. I dreamt of Jason and Zul and me, wrapped up and doing fucked up things to each other. Things I may have enjoyed. I don't know why I'm so fucked in the head, why the literal manifestation of Zul's disinterest in me romantically and sexually still manages to turn me on.

I got over all of that, Liyana. Without telling you, without telling a soul. I maintained my friendships with both those boys, and in a week it was like nothing ever happened. But something about this goddamned wedding doesn't sit right with me. Something about it rips at those old wounds. Maybe a part of me got over the Jason thing because he was a boy, and at the end of the day, he had boy parts that could satisfy Zul in ways I could not. That was okay. I could live with that. But Zul is going to marry a f*****g girl, and if he was going to fish on this f*****g side of the sea anyway, why the f**k didn't I get a chance?

I'm not unattractive. I go through guys all the time, trying to fill the Zul-shaped hole in heart and failing. I kept his secret for years. I cradled Zul in my arms whenever he had his crisis of faith. When your zealous uncle began to get on Zul's case, I anonymously blackmailed him to shut up. Why do you think he doesn't show up to family gatherings anymore? I've done everything to protect your brother, only to be replaced by some girl he's only known for a year.

I'm not a saint, but I've tried to be a good person, Liyana. But God, do you know what's the worst thing? I can't tell if I'd prefer if Zul really loved her, or if he is just marrying her to appease your parents and to silence any doubts as to the kind of man he is. Maybe I do deserve to rot in hell. I don't know, Liyana.

I can't imagine Jason would want to go either, but I can't speak for him. Personally I don't think I can stomach it. It is not Zul's fault, or yours. But I just thought you needed to know the whole truth. I couldn't think of any other way to justify not being there for such an important moment in both of your lives. I love you, Liyana, and as much as I hate myself for it, I still love Zul. That's why I can't come.

Warm wishes,

Ash

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New Draft

Dear Liyana,

OMG WHAT AMAZING NEWS! Of course I'll come. I'm so, so happy for Zul. Tell your parents I'm excited to see them again too! I hope Jason can come. It'll be a proper reunion. Love you, can't wait to see you all!

Warm wishes,

Ash

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