Coming to One Year.
I’m approaching the one-year commemoration of the end of my marriage, and I was actually getting excited about it.
I thought that it’s because my social frame is so fucked up that I could get so excited over something as depressing as that.
Then something that my brother said reminded me of the real reason to why I’m so excited about the approach of May.
No, it’s not my father’s birthday, which is on the 2nd of May.
Neither is Valin’s birthday, on the 12th of May, could get me as pumped up and excited about the entire month. (Although I always blow a candle and sing the birthday song every year this date passes – for you, Valin.)
The fact that I left the Hamra house on the 14th of May, and saw Jai the last time on the 23rd of May of 2006, aren’t sufficient reasons for me to feel so celebrative about the month of May.
Yes, that’s the word, “celebrative”.
I’m celebrating my departure from one country, and arriving in another.
I’m celebrating the actualization to my definitions of freedom.
I’m celebrating the realization of my lonely ideals.
In one year of living in
- I’ve walked to and from work on a daily basis.
- I’ve managed to live on $10 a week, $40 a month, budget.
- I’ve lived and established a small network in Aceh.
- I’ve taught English to full-grown adults.
- I’ve kept a
- I’ve traveled on motorbike, becak, bajaj and every other public transportation more often than in a car.
- I’ve been to
and Gumati. Medan
- I’ve owned three cameras: one SLR and two pockets.
- I’ve been to Takengon with 13 other people I’m not related to by blood.
- I’ve been kicked out by my landlady.
- I’ve spent long nights; fueled just by conversation, coffee and cigarettes.
- I’ve ridden a motorbike wearing high-heals and skirt.
- I’ve been inspired to write more than I’ve ever bothered to write.
- I’ve been called pretty so often that it’s not even nice to hear anymore.
- I’ve been in a situation where losing the man I love is preferable than being married to him.
- I’ve bought my first bottle of alcohol. And the second. And third. And so on.
- I’ve been more promiscuous than I’ve ever been in the last 6 years.
- I’ve lost all the things that I thought were essential to my sanity, and realized that even without them, I’m fine.
- I’ve tested every principal in my belief system and realized that they’re fine too.
- And this is the best: I have never savored the absence of Anger for as long as I have in the last year.
With such deep feelings for freedom, and the satisfaction for self-actualization (yes, you fool, fucking up and making mistakes are part of self actualization), what in the world would make me, ever, want to go back to where I hated myself so much that I would marry Jai?
Mother, Father, Brothers, do you have to be so blind, or cruel, or selfish to still expect me going back to where you live?