Monday, August 27, 2007

Letter to Cao

After spending some time reaching inside my womanhood to find what was bothering me, I realized that I am angry and sad at Cao, my third cousin and former lover of 11 years. He died in 2004 and I have never really accepted that. I closed my eyes and scribbled a letter to him in the dark. Later, when I deciphered the mess, here is what came out:

I am so mad at you and I can’t even tell you, because I don’t know how to find you. Want to know why I am so mad? When I read your letters—yes, I have them, all of them, pictures too—I feel like I am right there with you, feeling everything you feel and wanting the same things. But then I realize that I am reading letters from 11 years ago, and that the you in those letters doesn’t even exist anymore. I’m sorry that I never came to see you in the hospital that last day, but I was afraid. Afraid of seeing you changed, weak. Afraid they would all know about us. We were going to be together forever, convince the world that our love was real. That was the plan. But that’s not what happened, is it? The fear, the dread that we both felt when we started, was justified. You changed and I changed, irrevocably, irreversibly, irretrievably. You filled your body and mind with poisons that changed you slowly from the you I used to know, until I didn’t recognize him anymore. I loved the old you. That you lies next to me at night and breathes my breath. That you visits me in dreams and questions me, loves me, implores me to see you with wide-open eyes and complete honesty. I feel like my eyes cannot see you anymore, not even in dreams, I don’t think we could even cross that chasm to meet. But our other, better selves are sharing space somewhere and having a great time. But I didn’t finish telling you why I am angry at you. Because we were supposed to grow together, not apart to the point where doors were shut & locked against each other. Where it was all just lies. I can’t believe you left me. I can’t believe you don’t know my fears, my hopes, my pain, my joy. I can’t believe that I can never reach under your shirt and touch your hot, smooth skin. I can’t believe that we can never again walk in a rhododendron forest together at dusk. My need to connect with you is a raw and open wound, but I don’t know, if you came back somehow and we even spoke, that I would even know you or be able to get close to you. I think in our effort to mend aching hearts we built up barricades so high and thick that we shut each other out, by accident. Then before we could mend it, you were gone. But if you are somehow reading this from beyond the grave, I want you to know that I have not forgotten, and if you were brave enough to reach across, I would make the leap to know you again. What I thought was commonplace, I realize now, was to happen but once in a lifetime.

12 comments:

Chuck fka: Meanie said...

This is beautiful Tuyet; I am feeling your pain. Your words rang true to my heart because my husband killed himself almost two years ago. I will walk the healing path with you, my sister.
J

Denny said...

Poetry my dear that rolls off the keyboard and onto the screen. I have often seen such destructive behavior as callous as Cao's which I frequently find often amongst my brothers.

The clearer my head is now, the more I want to help them. Your letter, written in total darkness couldn't have come out more bright. It inspires me to bring them together on a path of wellness.

Thank you Tuyet!

Anonymous said...

It seems the person was dead before the body died; people cannot realize their own course to destruction it seems. I have an uncle that passed at an early age from liver failure after a life of heavy drinking.

--Stupor

Denny said...

I agree with Stupor on this regarding Cao. When the drinking starts, its not hard to Steer into a downward spiral. I should know as well as anyone else that its always a battle. But there's a fine line, its not just a black and white issue. Just when I thought I was going to be put out to pasture by my friends and family, someone lent a helping hand.

My friend Chuck had to virtually use a military flanking maneuver to save my ass onetime. Just as I was about to crawl into my car him and his cousin Mark Shank ran over, wrestled the the keys out of my hand and looked after me, making sure I wouldn't drink myself to death or steer the car into a family or something terrible.

Once you do come back man, life feels newer! But there's such a thing as sacrifice and you may have a certain image of yourself that you hold prime. Well, when that gets torn down, you gotta cut your losses. Its okay though because this is the U.S. and you have a choice whether to follow down that destructive path or enjoy life and all its splendors.

Tuyet said...

Thank you to everyone for your heart felt and strengthening words. It has been a rough day and I feel like I am opening up feelings I did not have for a long time.

Meanie/J, I am so saddened by your loss and by the cruel finality of suicide. This blog seems a trivial place to share these condolences.

Denny, You show a deeper, more sensitive side than I imagined you had when we first "met". You are tender and compassionate.

Stupor, I agree with you 100%. Cao, it seems, died twice. Three tims, if you count his identity and name change when we left Viet Nam (a story for another time). Thank you so much.

Free fer all Paul said...

I smoked some doobie from vietnam once and it was killer. fuckina.

Free fer all Paul said...

Hey Denny!You got some writin skills brother. You should write a book bout all that. fuckina.

BBC said...

It's hard to explain a lot in one post isn't it?

But your pain, the loss you feel, before the deception that is, the joy before that is what you miss.

Why do you miss it and still hurt?

Ah, I can answer that. Because you haven't found that joy again. That hand to hold, that hug, that smile, that sex.

And you have become less trusting after some crappy experiences. But part of the problem is your fault because you have become less trusting, and that hurts you in new relationships.

I don't want to write a book here so I will just offer you a hug.
((((Tuyet))))

BBC said...

As for Denny, he is working on it. There is some depth to him. But for him to be with a good woman he has to clean up the drug and drunk act.

That isn't to say though that you shouldn't enjoy the dark sides of your minds and share them with others. To honor all that you are.

It helps though if you can hold hands while doing it. Am I being too deep here?

Tuyet said...

Paul --- I'm sorry that you are so sad. No, you may not see my feet.

BBC --- Thank you. No, you are not too deep. If anything, I am not deep enough.

Chuck fka: Meanie said...

Tuyet, Your blog is not trivial place; it's the place for your healing path. I shared with you because my healing path is behind me and I am on my life path again. Happiness can be found and it is right around the corner for you, my friend.
J

Chuck said...

I once lost my dear sister to a pulmonaric embolism it was due to her addiction to little orange ones that she kept popping even during the embolism was taking place. I've written letters just like this telling her that I despise her for taking her away from me.