Sunday, April 23, 2006
the shape and taste of a goodbye

she's playing the piano downstairs (some new song that sounds an awful lot like a more complicated version of flying free), and it strikes me that pretty soon the only sounds of piano playing echoing in the house might be mine. her msn nick/personal message? 'will they just reject me and be done with and i can go overseas happily'. of course i want her to go. she's wasted her, as i've told her many times. if she has the brains and the drive, why not? but my father doesn't want her to go, so she has to somehow get rejected by them, or end up rejecting them. my life is measured by the holes left in it by the people who leave, and the fresh positions they acquire upon return. what used to be a solid, perfect square is now a sprawling mass of uneven holes dotting uncertain additions. sure, i've learnt to deal with the going-home of people like aunty imelda (the maid who was with us for 10 years, and was a mothersisterfriend to me. i cried for weeks before and after she left, making my form teacher in sec3 wonder if i was unstable, and causing some classmates to despise my weakness), but that doesn't make it any less lonely here. i'm almost certain she'll leave. as someone asked the other day, who would get which clothes? our clothes and shoes and bags are practically interchangable now. i'd miss her G2000 black pants that make me (us?) look like i (we?) have long legs. that yellow dress-top i haven't had the chance to borrow yet. i'd miss her borrowing my stuff, and asking if this matches with that, the way i'd burrow through my closet to find an outfit that would look great on her. helping her choose clothes for a night out.

okay chris wants me to call her. now. something about her sermon today applying to me. i get the feeling it's about how change-resistant i am.
8:13 PM ; 0 comments