It seemed like it’s been an eternity since I’ve even talked
about him. I’ve never had a dream about
him, but I wished I did so I can see where he’s at in heaven. I’m not sure what really happened to him,
because no one even wanted to say what happened. It’s like a secret that I will probably never
know and I won’t even ask about it. It’s
just that it was sudden and when I heard about it, I dropped the phone and was
in total shock. Why? But I knew…because
I knew how he was with everything.
The first time I met him was a year before he died. I’m grateful to have met him because of him;
I wouldn’t be where I am today. I’ll
tell you….
First day, he approached me; we were sitting at a club while
talking on a metal rail. Men always
approach me and ask for my number but him, he wanted to talk. He asked me, “Where are you from?” I told him that I lived in San Francisco and
I knew his friend. He wasn’t hitting on
me, so I kept talking to him. We talked the
whole night until we were ready to leave the club.
At first I thought it was odd that he wanted to continue the
conversation. At that time, I didn’t
want to talk to any guy. I don’t
remember how he got my number, for some reason we started talking more and
more. I learned that he loved art and I, too, loved art. But at that time I was pretty bitter with
life. He could tell with the things I
said to him. I hated my life. I would tell him things like “I can’t believe
she did that to me, she’s a bitch. I don’t want to talk to her…” Such things
like that came out of my mouth because I was a troubled person. The one thing that I remember most from him
was the situation with his co-workers.
They would tease him, throw shaving cream at him, call him names, but he
never retaliated. He remained calm and
was always happy. When he told me that,
I wanted to go to his workplace and slap those idiots. I would have done that too, at that
time. I was very confrontational. I even yelled at my housemate who lived
upstairs because she would intentionally walk hard on the floor of the ceiling. Every time she stepped, it would make a loud
crack, basically because she stomped on the floor so many times when I was at
home that it bent the floor and my ceiling.
I knew she had a problem with me and I, too, had a problem with her. Anyways I told him; don’t let them do that to
you. Say something to them. He said no,
because I guess he was indicating that karma would get them.
I didn’t listen to him.
Every time I told him of a problem I had, he would say “be happy.” And
he would giggle. When he said it, he
would say it with a smile. He was always good-spirited. But like I said, I didn’t listen. I kept on being
bitter. It’s hard when you’re going
through life at a tough time, you just want to yell and scream at everyone. But I never yelled at him, because he was
always good to me. To me, he was like an
angel who didn’t have a perfect life. I
still remember his laugh.
Him, he didn’t have a perfect life. He told me he had gone to the psychologist
many times because of a girl he had a crush on and of course other things too,
but maybe I didn’t know about. That girl
used him and denied him. He was a cute
guy though. So why? I don’t really know. I remember talking to
him late at night and I asked him, “Do you want to date me?” I didn’t like him but I just wanted to know
what’s it’s like to date him, cause he was such a good guy. He said, “You’re like this friend of mine who
is also pretty too. Everyone always ask
me why I don’t date her? You remind me
of her. Nice and pretty. I’ve known her
for so long as friends that I can’t date her, and you, you’re my friend.” I
don’t remember the exact words he said, but it was similar to that. I wasn’t
mad. I actually understood him. I smiled when he told me that. This lady friend of his, he talked about her
all the time. That made me happy to know
I was a good friend of his. He, had his
moments though, but I never saw it. He
seemed to be happy all the time. What’s
even sad that he would tell me he had suicidal thoughts? Why would a happy person like him be
suicidal? I remember I wasn’t on alert
when he said that as if it never occurred to me that he said that. Maybe it was as if I cared about myself so
much that it wasn’t real. That was my
downfall. I didn’t care enough to run to
him, shake him out of it and tell him to not ever be suicidal.
Months later, I called him but my phone cracked open on the
floor when it fell to the floor and I think I didn’t get a reply because I
wanted to ask him to go camping with me.
I didn’t have a phone for a whole month.
That day when I went camping, a black crow was crowing. When we went home, that same day a black crow
flew down in front of my car when I was driving off. Birds don’t do that. When I was able to get a phone, the phone
call came. He died.
That night I sat in my room, crying hysterically. As I cried, I cradled myself. I even saw a big white orb flying into my room
that night, but I didn’t think anything of it.
When I went to his funeral, everyone wondered if I was
okay. I looked horrible. I remember walking up to his coffin and
people were standing around and I couldn’t look at his face. I didn’t even try.
What happened? I remember thinking that.
What happened?
In those months after our last conversation…I didn’t talk to
him. It was about three months where we
didn’t talk. Why it was like that, I
didn’t know. Maybe he was going through
a lot and didn’t want to talk to me.
No one told me the reason why he died. But deep down I know
what happened. I just can’t ask to
confirm. I’ll just leave it at that.
I looked at my life.
Death does it to you. When you
know someone close has died, you look at death and think about life. It goes together. I was so immersed in my own life; I didn’t
even bother to check up on him constantly.
Someone is telling you they are suicidal, you can’t just ignore it. Even if it wasn’t suicide, I could have at
least tried. For years, I beat myself up
because of one thing. I wasn’t there for him, I was so bitter with my life, I
didn’t even try. But a few days after he
died…I just remember him telling me to be happy. Please be happy. Just be happy. Ever since, I thought about that and I
remembered that I need to be happy. So I
learned everyday how to be happy.
Because of him, I am here today feeling happy. It took a while but I am here now. I hope this story lets you think about why
you should be happy. Don’t let it be a
death that finally triggers that. Let
this be a story that happened to someone who learned it. Kids are generally just happy for no reason,
so I just became happy because it’s easy like that.
I do remember that laugh always. It’s the kind of giggle that makes you giggle
too. He’s probably laughing happily in
heaven right now.
Anyways, my favorite flower is the orchard. Tien got me that flower when he came to visit
me in San Francisco. When he died, I
bought him an orchard and lay it on his grave.
My mom told me that since I’m sick, that I shouldn’t visit the cemetery
much, because it attracts spirits. When I was troubled, I would visit my aunt’s
grave a lot. I had a lot in common with
my aunt who passed away. She had a
mental illness like me, she was pretty and she was very nice. She died from
postpartum. I remember when I went to
visit her; I felt this overcast over me.
My friend who is a psychic told me I had a black aura at that time. Black auras are really, really bad.
After Tien’s death, I started to hear voices. I remember in the room in San Francisco, I
would hear people talking outside of my room. I would cover up the windows
because I thought people were ease dropping and looking into my windows. I
don’t know if that’s the start of my mental illness or that it started in
Australia, but I remember when I flew to Australia, I started to hear crazy bad
voices. Before that, it was voices like
“Why are you doing that in your room, Silly Girl?” and voices like, “I can see
what she’s doing in the window…” They weren’t
bad voices at all. I remember feeling
cold in San Francisco a lot, that room was really cold. I even had dreams of a dark figure walking in
my room and had to get a Dreamweaver.
Tien had some problems with spirits and he would tell me stories about
ghastly spirits in his room.
Death has reminded me of life. When someone dies, you think about your life,
and whether life meant anything to you.
Life can be short sometimes. Your
life as you know it may change according to these people who passed away,
showing you that you better not take life for granted. I see death in the news all the time, and I
always ask if there is life after death.
Perhaps, yes or no, I’m not definitely sure. I know that life moves on without you, when
you die, and that memory that people have of you is there, either good or bad,
but the lesson here is that those encounters you have with people left a mark
in their lives, that your purpose in life is not to go alone but to savor the
times you have with people. Don’t ever
go alone in life, cause that’s lonely and sad.
If it didn’t leave a mark, it
makes people think that perhaps they should be careful not to just let life go
because they have no idea what your story is…
If I die, I know I’ve done a lot to make life easier for
those around me. I’m all about making
life easier for people. Life is tough
sometimes, but having me here in life, teaching people how to be happy has
helped me in the end. Gives me reason
and purpose to live. I’ll continue to leave a mark in people’s lives until the
day I die. And If I die, I’ll go to heaven and be happy there because I made a
difference.
Anyways, I’m just saying try to be happy… because all you
can do is be happy. All you have to do
is change your thoughts and behavior, and give yourself a reason to be happy
every day. There are so many things that
you can be grateful for. I know I’m
grateful mostly because of my experiences with myself and people, that I’m
happy today.
So, be happy!
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