Written By Aston Tsui
Author Bio: I'm an educational consultant who mainly helps students develop their personal statements for college admissions, but I myself like to express myself sometimes.
I still have dreams of her. No, they’re not those kinds of dreams. It’s always something innocent, something nice, something fun. Contrary to much of reality, the dreams are very pleasant.
It’s like a fragrant scent that elicits a kind of nostalgic response of the past…it’s all so ephemeral and fleeting but at the same time so in possession of us. It’s like we can reach out and grab it but it’s not really there.
I see him in the dreams too. I’m always kind of apologetic to him, as if I shouldn’t enjoy the time that I spent with her so much. After all, she was his wife. But are we capable of controlling who we love, especially in our dreams?
It’s not my fault is it? I can’t control that. But I could have controlled not calling her that night.
I wish I didn’t tell her how much I missed my ex-girlfriend when we were 17. Because of that singular incident we stopped dating. Maybe it was for the better.
You know, the ironic thing is, because of this post, this rant, this panoramic view of my subconscious, the future potential partners I interact with may become the unicorn of the past.
What I’m saying is, maybe I shouldn’t say what I’m really thinking, feeling, even dreaming. Maybe I should just keep it to myself.
But maybe I can’t.
In real life, I haven’t talked to her for at least 4 years, from the onset of my struggles with mental illness. Actually, scratch that, the struggles began before that, when I was 19. She actually saved my life when she called the police to stop me from committing suicide. She said sorry for doing that, and somewhere like a wisp of smoke all those relayed messages are still on Facebook, even though I stomped out my account a year ago. Trace memories are somewhere still there.
What did she have to be sorry for? For being virtually perfect? For being so angelic and comforting and a good person? For being intelligent and sassy and amicable too? For saving my life? No, she didn’t have to be sorry for anything. I’m sorry. I don’t even know what I’m sorry for.
You know I tried to write a book about you? It was based on The Great Gatsby. I thought I’d bring it to life, and you could be Daisy, and I could be Nick as well as Gatsby, the writer and the one that was great. I never finished it.
Alright I’m getting a little crazy.
Don’t worry, I’m sensible. Well, actually, I don’t know how to come off as not crazy because “I’m not crazy” sounds exactly like what a crazy person might say. All I know is that you’re stuck in there on rewind and I can’t stop it. All I can do is not do anything about any of it in my waking life and just try to proceed like a normal person? What is a normal person?
I wish he wasn’t my roommate. No, that’s not true. He was a pretty good roommate. Besides, you guys didn’t meet because we were roommates. You guys knew each other just as long as we did. We all knew each other for the same amount of time! Wait that’s not true either, he knows infinitely more about you now since you guys have been together for more than a decade now and have, since, gotten married.
It’s ok that I wasn’t invited to the wedding even though I was really good friends with you guys throughout high school and college. I’m genuinely happy for you guys. I think that time element of being able to be together for so long is a testament that you guys can and will be together forever, which is an absolute must for marriage. Too bad I probably won’t see you guys anymore for the rest of my life!
Except all the time in my dreams!
At least those are pleasant most of the time. Contrary to reality.