Chakriya’s Catch-up, Clarifying, Apologizing Letter To Veasna

Veasna,

I have been trying to reason out my heart to write to you. Every time, I fell fragile despite all the first conscious determination; my hand would, first, find optimism and then dumbness yet my head would not hold along any righteous courage to write to you. Pissing you off then keeps haunting me. It won’t just fade away. Naturally, I haven't stopped feeling bad about that dejected ordeal which befall on you and which I chose to execute. 

I know I’m now in no virtuous position to write to clarify things out for you: why I jilted you so harshly back then? Things that day were clear enough: we met, I talked, used the unexpected L-word towards you and left, and you were left doubting and appallingly disappointed, almost believing you were that L-word.

Why, yet, do I still write you this letter? Maybe I am still thinking about that event. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not thinking of jilting you again; it hurt me too seeing you flinching after I harangued you. Maybe I shouldn't have brutally pierced your little gentleman’s heart. Whatever reason, I guess, doesn't matter now to you. You don’t care, right?  

Though, for a serious reason, I decided to suffocate all the “what-if” in my heads and garner all my slight verge-y boldness to write and send you this letter. Beyond that decision, hmm, I keep asking myself this: why should I be writing you this when we are already miles away, which was prolonged by me who was then dumb and heartless? Do I even possess the rights to do so?  

It has been already three years since that sad event, right? A lot has happened since then, one of which was the fact that I haven’t completely let that go out of my memory. That’s why, maybe, you are reading this make-me-less-guilty letter. I still sound selfish, huh? Okay, I accept that too.  

Chakriya, as we both knew then, was calm and gentle yet serious in things she was doing. The seriousness I had back then had introduced you to a “why this happened to me?” doubt after my abrupt leaving. I’m sorry for that. You won’t forgive, though, right? That’s fine. You’ve been hurt and because of me only. Chakriya was not really calm and gent, accordingly such.

You might be surprised when seeing this letter marked “From Chakriya”. That cruel girl who appeared on a New Year eve, talked of the “L-word” and then disappeared, with no cares, as if nothing had happened. Whatever your reactions, I know it was all my bad at that time and, trust me (I know you won’t now), I really wish I shouldn't have taken things seriously and have rejected you.

To another honest perspective, I have been staring at this now-filled blank paper for quite a long time before gathering up all my courage to put down all these words. I know I shouldn’t have “L-word”ed you but, you know, I had no better choices too. Family are more important and my beloved parents wanted me near them when they moved. 

We all make rational choice, choice we think better for ourselves. Dumping you was a choice, and a better one at that time yet I should have known further that every choice we all make we must live with that very choice and the hard, probably, part is to live with that choice with a go-vivid-along-time consciousness that there is no one to help us with that.

Also, now, a touch of nostalgia of you then trying to care for me is spraying goosebumps on my skin and invading my heart. Your late-night assuring talks on the phone, your assistance with all my school stuffs, your loving treat every time we hanged (out), and your love, which I genuinely felt but cruelly abandoned. I was so lucky but I couldn’t fully grab and employ the luck. Thank you very much for all those and my sincere apology that I hurt you by blasting your heart out and leaving.

So, it was three years now I left. Fourteen days to 3 years. 2011, May 13 to 2014, May 27. I have known full well you were dubious the evening we last met when you were expecting me saying the big four-letter L-word, instead of which I spoke the five-letter one, and you were but abominably pissed.

For all this elapsing time, life here has been quite good for me. All of my kin here have always been supportive and welcoming. My mum is the only advisor and talk-mate here. Every time, she would, like you, reassure me about everything’s alright-ness. As time passed I learnt the essence of loneliness and one of my thoughts craved for your proximity but succumbed to the piercing reality that I told myself I could not come back and I must be strong here.

That was even crueler, right? Leaving you and telling myself to live on without you. I’m sorry for one more time.  

Months after, I went on with a marriage with a “good” guy introduced by my caring parents and he owns a supermarket. After the marriage, I got a job at his store; managing and supervising stuffs. Pretty sure, along the droning hours, days, months and years, there has not been you since then.

I guess that’s it, for my life. My marriage has been good; my husband has been really supportive and he was always there for me, just like you. Yet, all time spent with him carry along something different. Both of you are really caringly supportive, but there is something about you I couldn't tell and that Jackie doesn't possess.

The saddest part is that in the year of 2013, my mum, having fighting hard with Epithelial ovarian cancer, a common cancer for woman, finally succumbed to the damn illness. I cried my eyes out nights and nights. I learned about this back in three years  time when we were on the sweet part of love. The doctor who treated her broke out that she had several more years to live and, Veasna, I really had no choice but to abandon you and leave for my beloved mum. Several years with her seems like just one hour and probably that is what a daughter can sacrifice for her beloved person. I'm sorry if this hurt you, which it has, but my mum comes first ahead of all. 

The night after the funeral, my husband and I drove back home, feeling great ripple remorse. That night, I logged in Facebook, which I hadn't done since that night of cruel event just to not see how cruel I might be depicted, and saw many of your messages which eyed no replies. I read every one of them and, truly feeling how deteriorating your life were back then, finally decided to write you this letter. I even have read a book which illustrated a similar story of a broken-hearted who moved on with his life and which my husband bought for me on 2012 Thanksgiving Day. As I attempted to find out more, that book was all about our story and the author who called himself “indie” claimed to be the friend of the main protagonist of the book, who refers clearly to you. You let him write about us? I've got to say it’s your right and it is reasonably fine somehow for me. 

  

If that book is all about y(our) story, I'm lucky to descry of your current going-ons of your life as I have finished the book. Your friend is a well-worded writer. 

Again, I have to admit I was so blessed, having you near me back then, and my husband now. Thank you very much for your help back then.

Finally, again, I hope you are have been doing fine all along as indicated in your friend’s book. You must have been hating me all along with all my cruel treats in returns to your nice ones. With that, my deep apologies. 

I hope to have the courage to visit you when I visit Cambodia. In my closing prose, if what your "indie writer" friend has written in his book reflects your so-far life, good lucks with your life and your continuous search for an abroad scholarship. Hope you get one. Have fun with your life. I’m okay here and I have started a new life.

There are more important things I want to share with you, as I once freely did, yet my ego has de-throne my official rights to. There are both happy things and sad things. Let's me finish off with the one last thing I feel you may want to know: the current Chakriay is experiencing the ongoing loss of her thorough seriousness; she has grown quite emotionally fragile now. 

PS. Yeah, you have made a choice just as I did. I'm glad you did that. We both should be somehow a little proud as we have gone through such life-related, though dismal, experience. 

I should have, too, used an adjective in the salutation above. I just didn't know what word seem to describe you now. "Sweet" no longer fit in and I know that; I just have no more virtuous right to address you so. 

Best wishes and still thinking of you somehow, 

Chakriya

This piece is about #Veasna&Chakriya. You might wanna read how a promise motivates and Veasna's Hello.

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