Sometimes It Happens

{Music courtesy of Wilco, "Sometimes It Happens"}

Dear friends,

I always say this, but it has been a while since my last post. I should've already written about several Favorite Things, but I seriously did some crazy things that stopped me from completing my duty as a writer. Perhaps y'all remember how I would go on and on about going to New York, blah blah blah---well, I finally did it! :)

As my vacation approached in the beginning of October, I said to myself, "Euni, you really should just do it. Go to New York. Enjoy it!" So I proceeded and managed to get my younger sister (whom we'll call Nani) to agree to join me. My mother however, with her good intentions, didn't want me to go. For many reasons:

~~Wait till next year, you'll have more money saved up by then 

~~It's a big city
~~It's a dangerous city!
~~What's so cool about New York anyway?
~~Just stay here.

She almost had me convinced not to go, but when I really thought about it, I decided to go anyway. This was my chance to do something on my own, on a whim, just because, to fulfill some deep-rooted desire to explore, and so on. In other words, I couldn't be a "wussy baby" for my entire life---how would I learn what life was about without taking risks?

So I went, and I promise I'll write more about the trip---ok, no, I don't promise, because this trip ended up being a real catalyst in my life, and the smaller details don't quite compare in importance to the BIG PICTURE. (Ok, so I don't promise, but if I get around to it, I will talk about the fun Tidbits Adventures that took place too, at a later time.) I know it sounds corny and dumb, but it is 100% true. Here's how:

Before the trip began, I was terrified. Super terrified, as in I couldn't sleep at night because I kept thinking about being in a strange and unknown place and not knowing what to do if I got lost. Or thinking about not liking my destination. Or getting lost. Or raped. Or murdered. Or being the murderer (by accident of course). Even more terrifying was the thought that I would love it so much that returning home would break my heart. You know, like in the movie Inception, when the wife becomes "disillusioned" and depressed, and ends up killing herself? Yeeeeeahhhhhhh, lots of thoughts kept dizzying around my poor mind.

 Then, the trip came around, and I was on a plane to New York. I won't bore you with the details at this moment, but basically, I was the map/GPS-thingy for my sister. She, by the way, didn't really bother to plan too much about how to get to places and stuff---it felt like I was supposed to have the answers for how to get to different places, how to get back, and I, of course, had no idea what I was doing. Anyway, long story short, between Wednesday evening (when we got to New York) to Friday evening (when we met with the then-love-of-my-life) I had managed to get us (Nani and myself) to the hotel, the subway, Times Square, Grand Central Station, certain parts of 5th Ave., the Met, and Broadway...oh yes, and I also managed to get us lost in Queens at midnight, AND it started raining down on us. I had had to do on-the-spot problem solving---there were moments when I was in survival mode, and I swear, if a rapist had decided to attack us, man, I would've felt sorry for him, since he would've rued the day he crossed paths with us!

I digress, what am I getting at, you say? All this thinking, all this independence and freedom gave me a sense of accomplishment. I, Euni, am not a failure. I am capable of many many things. I do not sink. I swim. There is no time for flight, just fight. The twinkle in my eye had been extinguished, trampled away by the drudgery of my then-thought-of-as-boring work-study-work-sleep cycle, but in realizing that I knew how to survive and actually live, I gave my life a boost of rebirth and renewal. And I guess it's funny, you know, that upon discovering this powerful Euni, I met with my then-love-of-my-life.

 (You know that the "then-" is a sort of foreshadowing, but then again, all of my writing that deals with him ends in this way, so it really is just a redundancy of sorts.)

So there I was, with my sister, and with him. In my mind I had thought about this moment: I tried to play it cool, like it's no big deal if I see him or not, this is a big city and he wasn't the main reason for my visit. Since I'm playing it cool, I should give him a hug, because we're friends, and friends don't feel awkward when they hug.

 By now you should know that's not how I am. It was raining lightly. He was outside, holding an umbrella. I waved at him. No hug, I mean, come on, I'm an awkward hugger. It all seemed surreal to me. Here I had been, getting lost, aimlessly wandering through the city, and now here he was, trying to guide us somewhere unknown. I kind of felt like the then-love-of-my-life underestimated me; he didn't know the details of our adventures from before. He hadn't seen me take control of the situations that arose.

 We were in an amazing city, and suddenly, he didn't seem so amazing to me, after all I had been through, you know.

 It would have been great if I could have spoken up here too. But I couldn't apply all of that "fight or flight" and courage talk to my situation with him. I was too scared the entire time, thinking, he doesn't even love me, history has shown that I always end up hurt anyway, so I'll save us both the trouble and just keep quiet. Besides, if he wants me to say something, he should say something first. And another besides to that first besides, my sister was there, so awkwardness abounded. He was kind, courteous, and charming, and I was polite but curt. It was a short meeting, and I had the opportunity to at least hug him goodbye, but again, I didn't. We just parted ways.

 When I got back to my room, I felt kind of detached from the entire experience of the trip so far: I had discovered this awesome version of Euni and I had seen so much of an unknown city on my own (through trial and error); in living these things, my meeting with the then-love-of-my-life didn't quite compare with the newness and excitement of my exploration. Don't think I didn't love him anymore, I still did, (and do, but I'm trying to move away from that state actually), but I loved that new sense of self-worth, that I was (and am) capable of anything. (That's the corny part.)

I returned home on Sunday, and the love-of-my-life became the then-love-of-my-life. Apparently, very shortly after my return, he found his own love. I guess sometimes it happens that way, you know, if I had actually said something, or if I hadn't gotten lost earlier, things would've been different...or they would've been the same regardless. This is the part where I think of us being on different circles, and we just met at a tangent, for a brief moment, and that was it. Even now, I have decided not to do anything about him: could it be that our meeting had the same effect on him? We broke our own illusions of one another perhaps? I just won't think about it anymore, hopefully he's content with his new love. And I have recharged motivation to move on up in my career and education because I know I can do anything I want.