"twenty-one"

12.10.15 // It's my birthday today. 





When I was young, I ran away from Korea, to singapore with nothing; 



no friends, no parents around, no mean of communication, no source of love; the only thing I held onto was the hope that I could someday be reconciled with my father, the only mean for him to talk to me was this date, and whatever that was left of hope perhaps. I used to countdown fervently to this date; few words from him was enough to keep me elated. 







When I was seventeen, I had an infatuation with a beautiful boy. I never deciphered the connotations of love at that age, but I sure fell in love with his honesty, his dry humor, and I liked that he spoke his thoughts without much contemplation. It took us years to get to where we both were at that time, because we were very cautious not to break each other. But I also remember being so nullified of emotions, it soon became a terrible one way street and for many months, I could not look at him without breaking - for the feelings I could not reciprocate. I decided to give up what we've build. He had dreams but I had plans, and people around us held onto us - he was also probably the only person I held onto once; and with two feet standing on a principle, two hands longing for each other's warmth, cold smoke seeping out of colder throats, we spiralled down. I distinctly remember the anger in everyone's eyes, people who felt protective of him, an almost unanimous disdain that traumatised me down to my nerves and until today it still scares me to be around people, I was never the kind to prefer the social scene, and I swore by my previous life to stay perfectly out of aristocracy, still I knew I couldn't provide an answer - after all I had nothing to explain, I had nothing left feel, i had nothing left to hide. Perhaps I was a tad pedantic, or maybe I messed up the contingent of priorities If you would ask me I do not know, I guess I could say that I grew up ruthless because I left him, and felt absolutely nothing. All I wanted to do was the better good for the both of us. I reckon I would rather leave the pervasive good than to withstand the deception of a discretionary love I could not feel or maybe, never did exist at all. 









It was frightening to think that I could be so empty to the point I became so heavy, ironic as it is, to even leave someone like that - believe me when I say I lived the days after with the consequence that bend me in extremities, a kind of torment, a cruel weight to the conscience I never could forgive myself for. I still see him around sometimes but I can only look at him with guilt and pain - it still breaks me everytime to know that he remembers the merciless words I've said in the advocate of total pragmatism and dwelled upon these words hard enough to allow whatever's left to tear down what was once innocent.





I've stopped feeling emotions for many years now in coherence to keep what is a part of me, apart from me, to prevent anyone from my obsolete cordiality, non-existent form of fidelity; i am always terribly apologetic for the people I have hurt - and let's be honest - I am not that nice goody girl everyone claims I am to be. It is also funny because my greatest fear has always been to see someone suffer before me, it has always been something I've been terrified of as it often convulsed a part of my callousness that grew to become a familiarity, something I did not want to depart from perhaps. Then again I hurt the ones I yearn to protect - it's a funny analogy I can never comprehend myself altogether, really. I was never to decide or not to leave the man who had no one left in his life, neither Have I wanted to leave the beautiful boy who became the only person I knew in my world who had hopes and dreams and saw the future with me; I held myself captive for the mistakes I have made, but I also want to forgive myself for the decisions

that I was not given or a compromise I was not given a chance to give.





At twenty one, I now handle troubled children with filthy rich parents and sit before the office desk of a law firm to read jacked up divorce affairs on a weekly basis, sometimes I run around a busy cafe with too much going on and go to school like every other kid; I like books and school and learning something new each day it's a mundane cycle and it all does feel like a humdrum; it's been weird being meticulous about money because it has never donned on me that money was much of a big deal when I was younger -- My planner has become priority before any plans fall to place, it's like an almost hobby to be actually organized with my coexistent life, I've started to make decisions for myself, filtering out things that do not value add but only wane my punctuality and probable spirituality.





As I was saying, what are birthdays, if they had to be about me because I have found my own reason to celebrate the existence of the friends who have stayed today. 

This year my best friends, my family, they all forgot my birthday but I would like to think that it is a day to be joyous for the things I should have lost, but I gained anyway with unconditional love.

So I am eternally grateful for the people who love me, or whom have once loved me, for one accepting someone who had nothing left to give; who had absolutely nothing left. This is a tad depressing but I like to be to honest about myself because fighters get their share of tribulations and trials - I would like to think that it is the sense of humor of the man in white, to say that darkness exists to make life truly count.
















Because for a person who is nothing,  





I have everything.  










x 



Hannah Jang.