10, X, 十,สิบ,열, とお

Ten years ago, on that same very day, I was sixteen.

Six ten, ten sixes, six and ten.. What does it mean?

Numbered in days, months and years. And they seem very far and I feel them very near.
And at once they seem too familiar and at once they look so strange.
And there seem to be so much Time between one memory and the other, and for another it seems Time never passed at all.
Thats the tragedy I think.
We never really understand how or why Time can swallow something and not touch the other.

Are we not grateful to the arbitrariness of Time?
How it pillages and plunders, destroys this and enshrines, embalms that?
And I for-got (fore-gone?) all which filled those years and days and I was entrapped (in-trap?) in moments that never seem to end.
End.

Some sensations, sensed, sent, take a whole lifetime to decipher, to fathom.
Others fly, like ghosts.

I never forgot when I first was kissed, I never imagined two people are able to be that close, such intimacy never seemed possible or perceivable.
Such closeness was thrilling, frightening and improbable.
How vulnerable we are when we kiss.
And how fragile is our hearts when we are sixteen.

Time plays the cruelest of tricks, it makes us believe in possibility.
Then it reveals to us the error of our judgment.

No one teaches you about yourself, who you are and how you are, like the man that breaks your heart.
He points out to every imperfection, every lack, every reality you refuse to confront and take it for what it is.
I was in love once, foolish and amorous, and I tripped and fell flat on my face.
Take it from me girlfriend, never trust a man.
Especially one that you love.

Was I in love once? Definitely. At least that is what it seemed to me back then.
Am I still in love? Remains unknown to me.
Was I punished for everything I was not? Absolutely.

I was punished for everything I didn't understand, I didn't want to understand, I refused to understand, I couldn't understand.
At one point I was young and sentimental, clingy and immature, at the other I was psychotic and indulgent then the Almighty God Himself was summoned to reveal how evil I am.

What does one do when you bring God to punish you for what you are?

If you don't believe, then men are designed to be promiscuous, love is for heterosexuals and women.
If you believe, then men to men action is evil. How come you don't have a vagina if you were meant to be with a man?
If you believe, then mankind is supposed to marry and propagate the species. How come you don't have a uterus and can not bear children?

Believe me I wanted to, nothing that I could help or change.

Every organ, muscle and fiber tissue was invoked to invalidate my feelings.
If its not pectorals, its a vagina, if its not testosterone, its a uterus.
Every category and biological function.

What remains, but my sixes and tens, his wife and kids, my memories and his beard, my words and his God.

What remains?

A drag queen once told me, "Sweetie, men don't love, they fuck. If not with their penis, then with whatever organ that comes in handy."

Well, in that situation I will pick the penis.