The "little room"
Tokyo, 9 years ago.
The moment I was left to wrestle with just me,
in the 'little room' of my mind.
Me, me, me!! I kept looking in the mirror and
seeing my reflection, unrecognisable me..
Looked way older and paler.. My thoughts tangled up,
stack in a corner of my brain, the darkest part where hate,
anger and anguish breed. There was I, all of me checked into
the heartbreak hotel suite just being annihilated
by my long-term boyfriend:
- I don't really love you,I am in love with Mai...
It was always her, you were the closest I could get to her-
No surprised here at all, I knew it, I had felt it..
On many instances, I could sense something
non-linear to his greetings and gestures towards her..
But no! I wouldn't admit it, I couldn't make a case
about this or discuss it with either of them.
Two people I had chosen to love and trust,
surely they couldn't lie to my face if confronted,
so I avoided the matter like I would if I could see
an alien in the room but invisible to others.
That night we both got drunk, sex sucked,
not as if it was ever great, another sign
I kept ignoring, so somehow the alcohol and
the hostility of the suite's over the top
glamor and velour with its borderline mafia
kitch ambiance pushed us to behave like mob players.
He started swearing, I followed him in this game and soon
we found ourselves wrestling with two disillusioned egos.
I had thrown punching lines at me while looking
in the mirror:- You idiot! You fool! You are pathetic!
What the hell are you doing, wasting your best
time with this coward!-
-You are the coward, yes! I am such a scared little girl!
On and on and on I would repeat to my self
while melting into my own tears and burning
inside my gut, in my own poisonous fears.
- Not all the money, no boyfriend, no cool job or
travelling and shopping is going to fix that and you know it!-
I fell asleep in the bathroom, big as my
appartment anyway, in an effort to stop
pretending that I am all dry and ready to dress
and continue with any killings, not just yet..
It has always been my favorite room by the way,
since I was a kid when my parents would argue,
scream and shout, I would shut myself in
the 'little room', messing with my mom's makeup stuff,
distracting me from any involvement I would feel
compelled to have. It wouldn' t be the first time
I would perform UN antics. But now, I was too
tired and fed up to bother. In fact, I wasn't there
because "I wasn't there", not really..
My mind had taken over any emotional monitoring
leading me to an exit of sorts. Soon it had become
any exit. Late nights drinking, food junking, casual sex.
Some funny smokes here and there too.
The usual stuff. Nothing much creative..
Once or twice I had even thought that if I ever
committed suicide it would be staged in this room
of the house, the least public..That second day
of suicide staging visualization did it on me.
Something split, disolved inside. I felt it in my spline.
I was being poisoned by my own insecure reactions..
Very normal considering the circumstances but that
normal thing triggered my following actions
for a change. Still hazy, blurry and shaky
so the time is not pinned down in my memory yet..
But I remember that as soon as I woke up the
next day or the day after that, I had a shower,
brushed my teeth and hair, very convenient,
I didn't have to move through the living room..
No room for living, not just yet for me..
Ordered breakfast, a black coffee, one latte coffee,
strawberries and champagne, the most expensive!
I had just started grooming myself to a major
endulger particularly when I am not paying!
After a few sips of everything and reading
a really funny text on my phone sent earlier
- Didn't sleep, I hate myself for doing this to you-
something cracked inside me.. I am pretty sure
it was my heart.. The Japanese part was
absolutely shredded.. I knew then that his gift, to offer
me a dna test and a ticket to any other country it would
pop up as an ancestry gene mixer, wasn't a concidence!
I would often joke about my impulsiveness and
firey outlook on life by asian standards.
Not to mention that my mother, a Classics professor
and Humanities Historian, wouldn't hide her fascination
about my facial characteristics which appear pretty
European to her eyes only!,
- My Roman girlie, my mom would call me,
my little venus!
I was stunned when I read in the results
about my 17% Greek gene origin!
My father was invited to Mykonos for a work project,
I had a ticket already paid for. All I had to do is take
sometime off work and travel with my father to Greece.
He actually, after realising I was hurting over a break-up,
stepped up to fill in the man gap in my life.
I thought it was sweet, although too little, too late
for any serious dynamic to develop
between a father and his daughter.
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