Entry #56: Yin and yang

In ancient philosophy, yin and yang is a concept of dualism, describing how seemingly opposite or contrary forces may actually be complementary, interconnects, and interdependent in the natural world, and how they may give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another. -Wikipedia.

Light and dark.

It can be argued that everything in life is a struggle between light and dark, and at times, it is not so much of a struggle as it is that of a duality of personalities, that while seeming to be different, may actually be two sides of the same force.

For the year that I had Annie, my life was filled with light. When she passed, the darkness took the place where the light once resided. Annie had her light and dark moments to be sure. We all have them, and yet Annie was a force that could push the dark moments away with her smile. Her skin color against mine, was like an aphrodisiac, and I made the most of every moment possible when I could enjoy that difference.

Once she was gone, there was no longer any light/dark interaction to enjoy. It seemed that everything now resided in the dark side of yin and yang.

For years now, my dreams were dominated by my memories of Annie, but recently, something changed. More and more often, someone else appears in my dreams in the moments before I awake. She has become my muse of sorts, regarding my writing. Our discussions do not seem to have any boundaries, as we ask each other personal questions that we are both willing to answer. Stories we both have kept locked up, now seem to have found a partner in discussion and empathy.

We seem to enjoy some version of yin and yang. Sure, we both have dark stories to tell, and by listening to each other, we can pull light out of those dark stories. The yin and yang, back and forth, have opened my mind to a place of peace that has evaded me for years.

When she is serious and relating her stories, I can observe her strength and when she moves to lighter topics, her smile will light up the room. As I listen and absorb her stories, I marvel at the melanin color of her skin, and wonder what it would look like to see her body against the whiteness of mine. Could the texture, feel as smooth as it looks?

Yin and yang. Light and dark. Melanin and white.

Entry #55: Silk

Annie and I were scheduled to meet up in Montreal one afternoon. I loved the old city, as that seemed to be the only place where Annie could let her guard down and just be herself. Another benefit of meeting there is Annie always managed to come up with some sort of surprise for me.

We were very cognizant of traveling in the winter time and managed to do a pretty good job of avoiding any delays, but this time mother nature caught us. My afternoon flight was cancelled due to weather, and by the end of the day, all that was left was a redeye, so that is what I ended up with.

Landing early in the morning, I looked to see if there was a message from Annie, but nothing. We had said our goodnights the previous evening and I was pretty sure she was still asleep, so I didn’t bother to call and wake her up.

As is our usual ritual, she had left a room key for me at the front desk, so I grabbed a quick cup of coffee and headed up. I did a pretty good job of being quiet as I let myself into the room, and left everything by the door so I wouldn’t make any noise.

And, there she was, sound asleep in the bed. I must have watched her for at least a half an hour. I could never get enough of watching her, as she was the most amazing person I have ever met. Something was different, yet I couldn’t quite put my finger on it for a few minutes, and then it dawned on me.

The sheets on the bed were not white as is usual. They were a darker color and Annie seemed to have melted into them. Being asian, her skin color was like a very light caramel color and it seemed that the fabric melded with her coloring in an amazing way.

She must have sensed that I was there, because suddenly her eyes opened and she smiled in the way only she could to get my total attention. She pulled back the sheet and asked me what I was waiting for, and she only had to ask one time. Turned out the sheets were silk and she had purchased them the day before for a surprise. This was the first time I had ever been in a bed with silk sheets and the feeling as so amazing. Silk sheets and the woman of your dreams. When I closed my eyes and moved my hands, I could not tell where the sheet ended and her skin began. It was as if she was one with the silk. It was a form of sensory overload and we made the most of it.

I don’t know what ever happened to those sheets. I wish that I had them now, and wonder if her scent would still be on them after all these years.

Entry #54: They Are Back

So, it’s been a couple of weeks since those three little words I wrote about, removed the dark cloud that always seems to follow me. At the time, I wondered how long that would last, and apparently I now have my answer.

Not long enough!

Last night, my mind recognized the fact that in 5 short weeks, I will be noting the thirteenth anniversary of Annie having left this world. Thirteen years of grief and guilt for having failed her in the only thing that mattered, by not being able to protect her from her own death.

As each day moves closer to that date, I struggle with what I might have done to change the outcome when I had the opportunity to do so. I struggle with those thoughts every day, because there is no answer for me. Questions without a resolution.

Logically, I know there was nothing I could have done to prevent her passing, but logic holds no solace for me. To face the fact that I could do nothing to change the outcome, is just not an acceptable premise. There must have been something, and yet, I cannot accept the fact that I had no power to produce a different result.

These thoughts have torn me apart for all of these years, and while I thought I might be able to now overcome them, I realize I was only fooling myself.

My three friends are back and all I can hope for, is that they have lost some of their power over me. As the date inexorably moves closer with each passing twenty-four hours, I dread the prospect of falling back into the darkness.

The darkness was a comforting and safe refuge from the prying eyes and judgmental actions of those who knew us. I have to wonder if that place is still my safe haven.

Entry #53: Rituals

We all have little rituals surrounding many of the things we do on a daily basis.

Annie and I were no exception. Over time, we developed certain rituals that also became special times which we shared with each other, that had profound meanings beyond the ritual.

One of our favorite rituals involved rain storms. Depending upon the time of year and the weather, we had two distinct rituals that we embraced whenever we found ourselves together in rainy circumstances.

If the weather, and also the rain was warm as it usually is in the summertime, we would throw on some not so special clothes and take long walks in the rain. If we were near a forest, it would be even better. Nothing beats walking in the rain in the forest holding hands with the person you love, listening to the birds and other animals as they enjoy the rain and the free baths.

However, if the weather and the rain was cold, we had an entirely different ritual that we would enjoy if we could take the day off from our routines.

On cold, rainy days, we would throw off our clothes and snuggle together in bed for most of the day. We would take turns telling each other about our dreams of how our lives would progress together, and take turns pleasuring each other in every way we could think of. There were many days we never left the bed until it was dark and hunger forced us from our little nest.

So, this week there are several storms hitting us here on the west coast. These are cold weather storms with a lot of rain and wind. Not the kind of storms you can walk around in and enjoy.

In the intervening years since I lost Annie, I always try to go to the beach if it is warm out and the rain is warm, so I could sit in the sand, and stare out west as far as I could see. Further than I could ever see, is where Annie now lies.

But, this week, the storms are cold and unwelcoming. I left my bed so I could write this today, because there is no Annie for me to tell stories to or to pleasure, and the bed is a cold and unpleasant place for me now on cold stormy days.

It would be wonderful to find another person to share these storms with for a few hours. But…it is doubtful that will happen.

My memories of my time with Annie will have to suffice.

Entry #52: Words have consequences

“Words have consequences”…Albert Marrin

This is a quote that we all hear often, and yet, can it determine how we feel and react to life events?

For the last twelve years and ten months, I have been living with despair, grief, and depression over losing Annie. These things have been my daily companions, and over time, I grew to depend upon them in order to allow myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Everything else in my life was pushed aside in order for me to embrace these three friends.

Over the years, I have started and discarded several attempts at journaling my experience through writing, until I began to chronicle it all on this blog. So far, this one has staying power. I have shared it with no one who I actually know in person, for fear of their judgement and the inevitable hateful comments which I experienced first hand when Annie and I were together.

No one…until I met my friend “A”. I met her last year over another project, and something just clicked in my mind. I could see in her eyes, a person who not only became my muse in writing, but appeared to be someone I could trust with my blog. So it was that I gave her the link and she began to read it.

This past week, she finished reading it. I have to say I was afraid at what her comments to me might be upon finishing it. My fears were unfounded. She did not judge me, nor make any disparaging comments. She had nothing but empathy and positive things to say about both the writing and our friendship. Whew, that was a relief!

But, then she hit me with three words that changed everything. She said, “I love you”.

Not in a romantic sense, but in being the person I am. She could see me!

I love her! For the first time in so many years, I have found someone who does not judge me for who I loved. Someone who is interested in the things that I write and have to say. Someone who is also willing to reveal her stories to me as well.

Over the ensuing few days, everything changed. I have slept better. My three friends…grief, despair and depression appear to have abandoned me, at least for now.

Yet, without them, what am I to do? What am I to write about now? I will never stop writing about Annie, but could this be the beginning of something new in journaling my days and experiences? Will I actually have anything more to say? Would anyone care or read my musings if I did?

I don’t yet have an answer to those questions.

Three little words have such an impact. While I have stayed away due to covid, I am hoping I can see her again in the next few weeks to discuss her observations in person. To be able to actually look into her eyes and see her…

Time will tell if I have more to say.

Entry #51: The Closed Door

Over the years since Annie died, it was always in the back of my mind that I would travel to Thailand so that I could visit her final resting place. At times, I was almost obsessed with making the trip, but always found an excuse not to go. Admittedly, I was afraid for my own safety if I had to confront the reality of the place. All I hoped to accomplish was to be able to sit beside her and tell her of my love and all the ways I felt that I had failed in keeping her safe.

Not so long ago, I received an email notifying me that Annie’s mother had passed. I knew she was older and in poor health, but my denial of the fact that she would not live forever was in full force. We had not communicated much over the years, but when we did, she always managed to explain in her poor English how happy she was that Annie had found me.

My own indecision has now managed to accomplish what I could not mentally manage. With Annie’s mother now gone, there is no one left for me to contact, make any type of arrangements regarding a trip, and I will forever not know where she rests.

The open door that would allow me closure has now slammed shut forever and it was due to my own lack of courage. While I am still incapable of putting this all behind me, and moving forward to what, I don’t even know, I now face the reality of yet another thing that I have failed Annie with.

I was never indecisive when she was with me, yet, without her I am paralyzed with fear, darkness and an overwhelming dread of all the things I now think I should have done differently.

It is said that when one door closes, another opens. I do not see it that way. As I search through the dark corners of my mind for one remaining door for escape, I face the reality that there might not ever be another open door.

I may be stuck in this place for eternity.

Entry #50: Broken

Admitting to yourself that you are a fundamentally broken person is a hard reality to accept. Hiding that fact from others is so much easier.

When Annie died, I became a broken person. In eight short weeks, the thirteenth anniversary of her death will be upon me, and if anything, I am more broken than when she first died. I simply cannot get beyond the fact that she is gone forever.

With the pandemic raging, there is less and less human contact with others, and that works to my benefit. Without in person meetings, I no longer have to put on a smiling face and deny my grief to others by appearing as a normal person. Normal is long gone for me.

Only one other human, (my muse “A”) who I know personally, understands my broken status, and even she does not know the whole of it, since she has never read the entirety of this blog. There is no one else to confide these facts in, as I am distrustful of most others, due to being judged over and over again for who I decided to love when Annie and I were planning out our lives together. I know in today’s world there is more acceptance of who Annie was, but it is not good enough for me. There still remains too much hate in this world for her and what we had together.

I often debate with myself about moving somewhere new, and attempting to start over again, but in my heart, I know it will not make any difference. While new scenery may be enjoyable, and moving to a place where no one knows me would be refreshing, nothing in my grief will change. I will just drag my baggage wherever I wander.

I accept my broken status. No…I actually revel in it. For, were I to explore therapy or medication to conquer my darkness and grief and move on, my memories of Annie may diminish if those things were to be resolved. I can never allow those memories to fade away, as they are the most intimate part of me left.

The world is full of broken people, and I am just one of them. I may one day meet someone who would take the time to ask the right questions, and pierce my wall of silence, but I don’t hold out much hope. I will carry on in my own broken way, reliving all these memories Annie and I made together as long as I keep breathing.

Entry #49: Nature

Annie wasn’t a huge fan of nature. It took quite a few trips into the forest or on various hikes, before she was able to enjoy the beauty I so desperately wanted to share with her.

One time I specifically wanted to take her to one of my favorite places, so we grabbed a spare blanket and pillows from the hotel and off we went to explore. Once we arrived, we set up next to a small stream so we could enjoy the sounds of the water and the birds in the neighboring trees.

After a while, Annie lay down with her head in my lap and totally fell asleep while I stroked her hair. I was so surprised that she was so comfortable that I began to think of all the issues she had. Annie had a lot of issues, most of them surrounding her fear of not being accepted and all the roadblocks thrown in her path due to being transgender.

The longer I sat with her the more issues I could list, and I quickly realized how unequipped I was to be able to help her through all of them. I didn’t even know what I didn’t know, and felt like I was failing her each time one of her issues came to fore.

This was one of the hardest moments to come to grips with. I knew most of her issues by this time, and yet I had no idea how to help her other than to continue to show her how much I loved her.

In a few short months after this day, she passed, and my feelings of having failed her overcame everything I tried to do. How could I have allowed this to happen to her? I had no answers then, and in the aftermath and through the advancement of technology over the years, I was now able to research quite a bit regarding her situation, yet it gives me no solace to know now what I did not know then.

And yet, despite all this time that has passed, I cannot shake the dread in my heart that I failed her when she needed me the most. I am an old guy now, having lived the last 12 plus years without her. I am not sure how many years I have left myself, but what I do know is that the hole in my heart is not fixable. Going through the motions most days, her spirit is with me in everything I do. My friends constantly ask me what is on my mind and why I have become somewhat of a recluse. There are no words I can share, as Annie’s passing has brought such overwhelming sorrow to my life that I cannot bring myself to trust anyone with my feelings.

Entry #48: Hot Dogs

Annie always had the ability to surprise me when I least expected it.

One of the things that we enjoyed doing together was going out to dance clubs in certain cities where she thought she was comfortable and not threatened. One of those cities is San Francisco.

So it was one night, that we went out a little later than we normally would to a club where we had not been before. A great time was had, especially doing a lot of people watching. People were definitely dressed for a good time And it was fairly crowded.

By the time we decided to leave, we were pretty hungry, and it was into the early hours. I doubted we would be able to find an open restaurant, but to my surprise, there was a Mexican hot dog cart outside of the club.

Now, we all have preconceived ideas about different things. Annie wanted to get a hot dog. I was shocked! Not only had she never said she liked hot dogs, but the idea of watching her eat a hot dog made me laugh. It just seemed to be so incongruous to watch her eat a hot dog while standing in the street with mustard seeping out of the bun and onto her lips. I wish I had a picture of that moment.

Even a hot dog can surprise you at some point..

Entry #47: A Scary Mind

Sometimes, my mind goes to places that scare even me. The darkest corners of my mind always give me solace, and a type of peace that most folks would not understand. Hell, many times I don’t understand how the dark places give me what I need.

Normally I do not remember my dreams at night, unless they are about Annie. The one constant for me in the early mornings as I awake is that when my eyes finally pop open, it is with the recollection of an event or time spent with Annie.

So, it was shocking to me the other day that when I awoke, it was from a dream that I was having about my new friend “A”. It was as clear as a cloudless sky and there we were, spooning together in bed. Now to be clear, we haven’t even exchanged a kiss or anything other than hello or goodbye hugs.

And…it wasn’t about having sex or making love or anything like that, because that was not a part of the dream. It was about just having our bodies touching each other, holding each other tight and enjoying the connection of the moment.

Where that dream came from escapes me. One of those dark corners decided to open up and show me something new.

That scared me awake for sure. And…as dreams go, I sure enjoyed that one.

I wonder if it will turn up again one of these days…