Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Je le hais beaucoup! C'est incroyable! Je voulais couper son [...]

mais ce n'est pas necessaire: je le deteste plus que les mots peuvent dire.

Clutching my heart in exasperation, I felt it drilling into the walls of my chest. I was getting light-headed as the next intersection approached, my rapid breathing unable to fulfill my excessive demand for air.

I quickly recounted the images that made up the last five minutes. I remember wanting to send J.Lass's mother some flowers for her loss, heading towards a local florist for white carnations.

I remember turning the corner at the intersection where the metro station stood, a bustling corner of commuters on their midday coffee break.

I remember walking behind a stranger only to lose sight of him suddenly when somebody else lodged himself directly between us in the crowd. A tall man of 6-foot-2, it took a second to realize my nose was already skimming the sleeve of his jacket: so close I was that the beige material spanned both my eyes. Out of habit, I looked up to apologize even though it was technically his fault to have spontaneously (and carelessly) got in my way.

It was M. Biologique. The first time in over a month since I've seen him. "Oh my God," I gasped. He kissed his new girlfriend: "I'll see you at 7:30, baby."

I remember hurrying around them, my presence unacknowledged. My heels click-clacked on the slippery pavement, large red sunglasses shielding my eyes from the sun. No, there was no sun. Though they were mercifully preventing passer-bys from judging what laid behind them anyway.

He did it on purpose. On purpose. The words resonated like a tremor through my body. He felt the need to hurt me even as he aggressively sought to push himself away. On purpose. Malicious. What would Oprah do?

In retrospect, I am glad to have witnessed the pettiness he demonstrated oh-so-clearly today. He needed to prove that he's moved on. And my surface display of indifference proved to him the same.

Besides, "cruelty is fed, not weakened, by tears."

***

After that initial shock, I went therapy shopping with NorIda. I bought accessories here and there, a coin purse (on sale!) at DKNY, a few Body Shop moisturizers, and basically pampered myself, grateful for my friend's companionship on such short notice.

Books were being unpacked on the mezzanine at school, so I picked up Skipping Towards Gomorrah by Dan Savage. And The Tiananmen Papers: I was there when it happened, I deserve to know why.

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