apologize to the scallions

We’re watching a TV show, and she begins to cry.

I suppose what happened was fairly sad; I know that logically but inside, I felt nothing.

“I’m becoming myself again.” It was a statement that rang and echoed in the empty halls of my very own inland empire. No one seemed to be around.

It’s a very worrisome thing to catch myself slipping back into that incarnation. It usually means all my relationships will suffer and deteriorate. I’ve worked very hard to cultivate those, it’s a shame every time they fall apart.

I dwelled on this for some time until I remembered that only a few hours beforehand, as I was cleaning up and putting away groceries, I caught myself in behavior that perhaps was odd, but not so troublesome. I had some old green onion stalks in a glass jar in front of my window. I’d been trying to revive them from their super market fate, but they didn’t seem to take and well, some new ones had arrived as part of my grocery order. The new ones also needed a jar, the water, the sunlight, and perhaps had a better chance of surviving. It only made sense to throw out the old ones and replace them. But… I felt… bad. I felt bad! and not only that, I apologized to them as I threw them out.

So, what sort of creature is completely devoid of empathy, but at the same time, so full of empathy that it has to apologize to even the vegetables for giving up on their lives?

I suppose this question only has legs to stand on if I’m thinking of myself as a singular entity. I am clinging on a bit desperately to the idea that I am just a person, just one person. Though my behavior may hint otherwise.

Again.

A friend of mine asked to borrow 50$. I cannot quite afford to lend any amount of money out but I did so anyway. After all I so often rely on the kindness of strangers, and so often ask to borrow money myself, to an almost embarrassing degree, so how could I, when in the opposite position ever turn anyone down? So I gave him the fifty, and spent some time worrying about how many nights of bedding, or how many meals I’d just given away. But I do this sort of thing often, giving away money I don’t quite have, always tipping more than I should, when I am indeed carrying cash I can never bring myself to refuse an open hand. “I must be quite kind and generous” I say to myself. Sometimes I think its a good thing that I’m not rich, as I’d definitely be giving away far too much more money than is responsible to.

But then.

Last Thursday I had a dream that a friend and I fought. I forgot about that dream entirely until 3 days ago -

“everything happens on the 18th”

when I indeed did end up in a fight with the very friend I dreamt I’d fight with. In hindsight, it’s a conflict that’s been brewing for months, and now that I write about it, I wish I’d let it brew for longer, so I could have left without any stain or negative marking on our relationship. But this was not the case, we fought, the words were bitter, and when she apologized, I did not respond, I just left it hanging there. I was still angry, I think parts of me long buried were deeply hurt by her behavior, that’s the only case in which my silent anger is proportional and justified. So I didn’t respond, and refused to speak to her. I laid in bed for a while and thought about how ironic it was that all I wanted the most in this world was my ex wife’s forgiveness, yet I refused to forgive someone else in turn. Almost relishing in the punishment.

“that’s cold of you, and hypocritical.”

I know, but I sleep fine.

So again I ask, what sort of creature?

post script.

I failed Allah in my great show of faith, I’d become sickly and weak from the fasting. On top of that, looking at old pictures, I realized that even before the beginning of Ramadan, I’d lost quite a bit of weight, and because of that, I was looking less and less like I want to. My face had become hard, angular, gaunt. My cheek bones and jaw protrude. Not like in that one picture where my cheeks are fat, and my eyes are full of happy relief, at finally being able to make my cage beautiful.

My happiness and well being are in direct contrast to the will of my chosen God, what am I to do? I tell myself it would not have made me this way only to condemn me.I sound ridiculous to even myself. I listen to a man wail, vomit deep guttural emotion as he watches his family be buried in rubble. An onlooker screams desperately, “may god bring you peace!” I ask, “why does god stand by and watch this happen?”

I sound ridiculous to even myself.

Astagfirullah.

Perhaps it’s better to let my self slip back into the old way, then I won’t care.

“You said you’d turned from the ruin, why have you come back here?”

The dreams have started again.

“I see, welcome home.”