Thursday, May 24, 2007
Electric shock treatment
About a month and a half ago, on the very first night I started working at Scusami, I saw a certain "P.M." who I didn't want to see (he luckily, didn't notice me). My reaction was a renewed anger, such that I was unable to continue working and had to ask my boss to leave. I felt justified in my anger because of what he had done, and didn't give it much more thought.
But different histories with different people have different effects. I was waiting for my takeaway soy cappucino at coffee HQ at campus centre, and, looking up for one moment, I locked eyes with a familiar face as he walked past. He quickly turned away, as did I. And for a minute, I was motionless, not daring to turn around again. I felt like I'd just been electrocuted. My legs felt wobbly, and my ears were ringing, as if a ghost from the past had just screamed in my ears. I didn't only feel angry - I also felt scared, guilty, weak and flushed. My heart was pounding away like mad.
How am I supposed to feel when I had to watch a person try to kill himself in my kitchen with a steak knife? It's been over a year since that now, but thinking about it still unleashes this dark torrent of violent feelings. I feel, up until now, that maybe it was a subconscious attempt to guilt-trip me. And it worked. I feel terrible for somehow playing a part in a chain of events that led him to behave in such an extreme manner. I feel awful that I couldn't have taken better care of a dear friend. And I feel ashamed - ashamed of that deluge of tears that streamed out when the police arrived. I am sorry that I disrupted my housemate's study. Sorry I messed things up for a lot of people last year. But angry too. Angry that he tried to bribe my friend, that he suddenly were ok to drive himself home when the police were going to call an ambulance (cost=$450). Enraged that there was nothing I could say in my own defense, fully knowing what people whispered behind my back.
For a while, concerned, I followed his life on his blog... and perhaps I shouldn't have ever found it. I was happy that he was doing well, and I mentioned on my own site that I was happy for him. I suppose I never should have, because after a short series of blogs defaming me, he disappeared off the internet entirely. And so I've been worried for him.
After all those claims that he was going back, that he couldn't stay in Australia anymore, and that he was going to make his sister go back too, seeing him here was the last thing that I expected. I wish I'd smiled. I wish I'd said something. I wish I hadn't stood there, pale, transfixed on the wall.
So why am I saying all this now? I've always turned to written words when I am troubled, ever since I was a child. And this... well, because it still makes me mad. I had nightmares about it at night, and I still feel chilled to the bone today.
But after all those unleashed emotions subside, the truth is, I still miss my friend.
fon @ 6:16 AM link to post * *