2018/3/1 Thur

  1. waking up especially early. C has not done her routine exercise before bed. we go on mute video talk so i can watch without being noticed her doing ballet beautiful with her roommates. at one part she says, this posture looks like little roosters. 1 tea-leaf boiled egg.
  2. sandwich: sourdough, tuna salad, sriracha mayo, lettuce, tomato, pickles. thinking of being relevant, start to recall what happened during winter break. yet i realize i have no desire to chronologize all the events, nor does there seem to be such necessity. i’ve scattered them up and tossed them into different entries. something i remember most vividly is the day i came back home from C’s university, thinking my father had found out about our relationship. he acted as if nothing had happened, in such a way that we all knew something had happened. during those few days after i got back, he was so gentle to me, tender even, his expressions always considerate and protective. he cooked for me what he thought i would like to eat. he never for once blamed me for anything. when my mother was mildly angry at me, he spoke against her. those were probably my softest memories of my father thus far, and i was anxious, restless, even more so than if he’d have been severe to me, expecting it all to fall apart sometime soon. he managed to keep it up. the only difference was that, as the date of my departure approached, he started to pick up the topic of me finding a boyfriend more often. every several days he would say, you ought to hurry. if there’s someone to take care of you, we won’t worry about your safety anymore. the only slippage he made was a half joke: you’re different from your cousin (G); you never tell us anything. the first day i went to visit C, she got a fever at 11:30 on the night. we spent seven hours in the hospital for her to finish the iv. finally back at the hotel, whose sanitation now seemed suspicious, we decided to sleep for a short while, check out, and go back to C’s dorm. we collapsed on the bed without undressing. then, after what felt like ten minutes, i woke up startled and saw five missed calls, two from my father, three from my mother. i remember sitting there staring at the screen. i had a hunch; i knew something was happening, and when my mother messaged me to say my father had knew, i took a split second to take pride in foreseeing this. she said, your father saw your text messages on the ipad. he was very upset. neither of you is talking to me! i told her i had been sleeping. i considered if i should make it clear that what i said had not sexual connotation. i thought, ipad. i didn’t want to wake C up and ended up doing it because i was shaking and crying, though i was surprised by how little i was crying. days later we took a taxi to the subway station and, upon existing the taxi, i finally answered a call from my father. he was talking to me as if to a kid. it was a voice from the long gone past. my parents both believed my homosexuality was a result of their negligence during my childhood, though they weren’t sure about the detail of their failure. i was at the same time moved and terrified. this was my father’s attempt to make up for it.
  3. chili dog and curly fries. at dusk the clouds are pink again.
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