Zombiemail

Stuffing the e-mail folders tonight (the 21st); some of them were sent from other websites.  I made a new folder just now called CEHT for Sister Lam, Eunhee, Heidi, and Tugsuu, four individuals whom I might’ve been better off without.  I don’t mind the last one, actually, who, alone among the ghosts of my past, still thinks me worthy of her occasional spookery.

And then, Heidi is not in that category… but the fact that she has straddled my story’s chapters with the others, and once tried to be my constant friend, makes her a more steadfast figment.  Besides, I have a ton of her e-mails.

These old e-mails…  It’s like you’re watching a movie…  It couldn’t possibly be real.  It’s all imagination.

…But somehow, in the film, the main character is you.

There are my old notes from… several random girls, now married.  Why did they message me?  Was I some stepping stone across their lonely river?  Leave me alone…  Mony, Holly, April (HK girls), Linda Pan (a mission website random)… Kim Jeong-un (is she married?)…

Surprisingly, there are none from Kim Hyunjoo, that little hunk of kimchi.  But I might’ve deleted them when I erased all her pictures some years back, hearing the news that she planned to possibly get married.  I guess I should be glad I didn’t have to get over her — that would’ve been absolutely brutal.  She random-chatted me last week.  She’s “got a boyfriend” or something meaningless…

There are my talks with Jaredita, who once pretended I was a part of her short life.  Bless her.

There’s dear Hedy, whom I didn’t separate out from my general “Friends” folder because I’m not sure she cares how much I would still support her.

There’s Jade Kim from Korea.  Ha ha.  Shouldn’t’ve looked twice at that one…  (Speaking of girls I met in Korea, I saw Sister Gao again at Temple Square on Sunday night.  “Coral”, I thought she used to call herself.  She didn’t seem to recognise me, so I didn’t talk to her.)

There’s Okhee… …one of the better girls in the world.  She was my first Elena…  Elena, who came all the way over to my computer to greet me today.  (My new know-it-all ward friend Mike Wilkes predicted that Sunday night, talking about girls who “over-analyze” and cut guys off, then start to second-guess themselves and try to talk again.)  That was after I walked past her and intentionally didn’t greet her.  I don’t plan to like her or miss her anymore, even if she talks again.  …But, obviously… you know.  I wouldn’t resist her all that much.

Anyway, e-mail.  There’re a few from Alex, whose frivolity I got annoyed with again on the phone last night.  I guess it’s ice again for us.  I want her to find somebody who can look up to her.  Her sudden interest those years ago was the most random of them all.  I guess she absorbed it from Heidi.

There’s Kumiko, Erica Sit (who’s talked to me again recently), Cho Eun Young, my super-old Thai friend Bibi, and old Chan Shanjung.

There’s one from confused Rekha Selvaratnam, and some from tall, kindly Nichole (Long?) from school…  There’s Sherry Wong, whom I actually wanted to like for quite a long time.  There’s unavailable Christine Li.  There’s one from Lia Kim.

There’s my friend Sin Ting, perhaps the oldest of my current friends.

And there’s a smattering of other Asian dayflowers (and a couple Latin), some very recent.-
There’re just a scant few from… Kang Heehyun, that interesting character.  I put hers in the Bomie folder (renamed “Close Call” to get that name out of my head), along with one or more of Heidi’s that were about her.

Anyway, what a tremendous waste it’s all been.  All I’ve learned so far is that there is no true compatibility, and every effort is futile in the end.

Here are some relics.  I wrote this first one out of the limited selection of word magnets on Erin Bryan’s fridge, saving it by e-mail on 2004/11/20:


I met a girl before
who was like an angel
from a place as lovely as heaven
.
at first sight I wanted
to open my heart to her
.
we were talking
I was thinking
our souls are so alike
.
I wanted to give her
my joy and my life
and my lips
and everything in me
and fly away together
.
but she could not see my wings
or find any beauty in me
.
and some dreams will never come true
and some guys don’t make it to heaven


Clearly, from the date, this could only be about Sister Lam.  She ultimately left the guy she rejected me for, and married a Gentile.  I just… hope she’s happy.  But I guess it shows how wrong it was of me to idolise her.  I’ve always been wrong like that.

Here’s the other, a series of “haiku” I wrote for our old school library contest.  This e-mail was on 2005/04/06, and the verses were about Eunhee.  Not really haiku, all they do is follow a 5-7-5 syllabic rule.  Fake in form, but true in fervour, they are also roughly chronological:


Her fathomless eyes
allure as sparkling silver, [<- a play on her name]
and make time stand still
.
.
He’s a slow learner,
But her lips taught him something
he’ll never forget.
[she was my first kiss…]
.
.
That day, we embraced
Prolonged goodbyes promised love
deeper than oceans
[this was on my departure to Hong Kong]
.
.
“I think I’ve found him…
Mister Right,” she said—My heart
burst into pieces
[we broke up later… and this was after our reunion and final date, when she rejected me for her husband]
.
.
Torrential river,
Can your flood exceed my tears
When I think of her?
[obviously, the awful terror of depression that spring]
.
.
Man’s greatest sorrows
He inflicts upon himself
Reaping what he’s sown.
[Call me B.F. Pinkerton…]
.
.
Impossible wish,
Hopeless fantasy, but still
Her face haunts my dreams
[I can’t remember when I found out their engagement…  They married the next July.]
.
.
Give her up so soon?
Easier to fight armies
Than to forget love!


But… oh, the trouble I’d have saved myself if I HAD given up.  Instead, I…

…What?  How’d that go?

…I built my high tower on the flawed foundation of love. -_-  And I went to her Korea.

…And my hell…

…continued to deepen.



Well, I wrote at least two poems about Bomie also, one short and lyrical, the other narrative.  Maybe I’ll dig those up later.

Ah… if all I had for trouble was economic precariousness… I would be a supremely happy man.



God, Father, please, for Christ’s sake, forgive me for what I’ve done that has deserved me this broken love… and heal me, as before.

-Steve

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