That's What It Means

August 25th, 2017

In Japanese, “omoi” means “thoughts”. But at the same time, it’s also the reading for the word “heavy”. Before I learned that “omoi” as in “thoughts” and “omoi” as in “heavy” were written differently, I thought that it wasn’t a coincidence.

After all, when I walked home from the station, my body felt heavy.

I walked home in slow, shackled steps, as if my thoughts had formed a heavy, unwieldy armor that encased me. My brisk pace, and the occasional skip in my step, had lost the will to materialize in my gait.

It felt normal when we walked around the park, but –

(Step.)

What happened?

(…Step.)

Why did it feel like she was holding me at an arm’s length?

I didn’t feel like lifting my leg to go up the stairs. My body was drained.

Why wasn’t there a goodbye hug like usual?

I had to move. I’d grinded to a halt, and the longer I spent staying still, the harder it would be to resume my walking. So maybe I had to keep moving, to break that trance, to keep that trance at bay, to make sure I wouldn’t fall back into it.

Why –

Keep moving.

Once I got home, I dropped my bag in my room. My sister was on her laptop, and my parents were on the couch. Business as usual.

Normally, Kenzie or I would message the other shortly after hanging out, but I hadn’t texted her since we parted ways, and I hadn’t received any messages from her by the time I got home.

From the atmosphere that she left me with, I thought that she wanted a bit of space. I want to say that’s why I hadn’t texted her.

But, even if she didn’t need space – even if that theory, that excuse of mine, was wrong – it wouldn’t have changed my silence. That’s because I didn’t feel like messaging her until she explained herself.

Was it right or wrong of me? Would it have been pathetic of me if I had texted first after that, asking her what was wrong?

Hm.

While my mind churned uselessly, I took a shower, brushed my teeth, then went to sprawl myself across my bed.

At 11:06 PM, Kenzie texted me.

[Kenzie]: Do you have some time to Skype tonight?
[Kenzie]: It’s not going to be for long

[Kenzie]: Half an hour?

Now?

[Kenzie]: I promise it won’t take up much of your time

For her, I would always make the time, so I fought off my fatigue and grabbed my earphones. Once she was ready, she called. I settled into bed with my phone.

Then came the ringing that preceded a Skype call.

Then came the face of Kenzie.

(In 720p.)

“Sorry for calling so late.” She was wearing a dark blue shirt that I’d seen before in our previous calls.

“It’s fine. I’ll stay awake. I think.”

“…Okay. I was doing some uni stuff.”

“Uh huh.” Her texts earlier gave the impression that she wanted to say something important. “Did something happen?”

“I’m just worried about uni.” Lots of uncertainties were pulling at her. That’s what was written over her expression, at least. “I don’t know if I’ll fit in.”

I wasn’t sure what to say there, so I thought for a moment. “I’ll be here”? But I didn’t know for sure if that was what she wanted to hear from me at that moment. And it would be lame for a university student to be socially reliant on her underclassman from high school.

“I feel like you’ll be fine. But did you not fit in with the people at your orientation camp?”

“I felt like there was a bit of a culture shock. And even if I get past it, I still might not find anyone to get along with that well.”

“How about that time you guys went to get drinks?”

“It wasn’t anything that special.”

She was quiet for another moment before she continued.

“At some point I got a bit too tipsy. Another guy had to piggyback me. There’s even a video of it.”

“Show proof!”

“Nope!” She smiled weakly. Then she returned to her previous expression. “…I didn’t mention it earlier because I thought you wouldn’t take it so well.”

“Mmhm.” That was the sound of someone who wanted to acknowledge what he’d heard but didn’t exactly have anything to respond with. To comfort her a bit more, I added, “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll make friends.”

The call went silent for a while. Even so, we had each other’s attention.

She went on to ask, “Do we even have anything in common?”

It sounded like she was expressing doubt about our compatibility, even though we already weren’t even dating in the first place.

Again, I thought for a moment.

“Hmm…”

Even through my phone screen, I could see that she was crying a little bit. Her cheeks were slightly red. She wasn’t going out of her way to hide it from me, at least.

I was trying to understand what was worrying her. She was probably afraid of being lonely in uni. Maybe afraid of potentially losing touch with me. Maybe she was worried that she wouldn’t meet someone who she’d connect with on the same level as she’d connected with me.

Anyway, what did we have in common?

“…Other than the obvious stuff like our high school…” She was short, and I was too tall to even use her as a headrest. My best subject was math, she was mediocre at math. She didn’t open up to people as easily as I did. She played the cello. I played Pokémon. “…We both like going to the promenade?”

“It really feels like we barely have anything in common.”

Well, that gave us another thing in common. We both agreed with that statement.

I thought about my parents. “My parents are pretty different. I can’t think of mutual traits between them, personality-wise. But that doesn’t seem to be an issue for them.”

Kenzie pondered for a bit. “Maybe I’ll ask my sister what she has in common with her boyfriend.”

“Same. I might ask Ray too.”

She sighed silently. We had another quiet moment. Then she briefly went back to the topic of uni worries.

“You know, when I was worried about being lonely, I tried to think of the people I felt comfortable with. I remember that I thought of you.”

Hearing her say that made me feel like being a bit cheeky. “Of course. I’m amazing.”

She sarcastically responded, “Uhhhhhhm.”

“What?” I challenged her sarcastic comeback.

“Nothing.”

I snickered a bit.

Suddenly, she declared, “See? I’m opening up to you more and telling you my side of things. Just like you wanted me to.”

This time, I decided to reply a bit more seriously.

“Sure. That’s a good thing.”

“Thanks for listening all the time. And supporting me.”

It didn’t feel like her problems were completely solved, but at the very least, her face seemed to be a little brighter.

Seeing her feel just a little bit more relieved made me feel better. She didn’t tell me why she wondered about what the two of us had in common, and I couldn’t be sure how her uni problems related to me. Why she chose not to leave with a hug earlier also remained unknown to me. But since her mood had improved, I was satisfied enough.

I knew that I didn’t just like her. What I felt was more than that. Her worries were my worries, and she could easily make the difference between a good day and a bad day for me. Maybe it sounds cliché, but by then, I cared about her even more than I did back when I told her how I felt on June 16th.

August 25th, 2017

The call continued. We talked and talked. We got sleepier and sleepier. She’d only asked for half an hour of my time, but we’d been calling for over two hours. It had gotten to around 1:30 AM. Both of us had also taken cheeky screenshots of each other’s sleepy faces by then.

I don’t recall much about the rest of that conversation, and we were both on the verge of falling asleep, but I do remember that I just wanted her to do less worrying and more smiling. She did have a lot to think about. She had uncertainties about uni, about the relationship between us, and maybe how one would affect the other.

Just before the call ended, I said one last thing to her.

“I know it’s not a great time for this, but…”

I looked at her tired face, and finished what I had to say.

“Love you.”

She made a bittersweet smile, and then the call ended before either of us said any more.

I don’t remember who ended the call. But I think I was the one who ended it. Because I knew Kenzie wouldn’t know how to respond to that.

At that moment, was it selfish of me to say that? Or was it selfless?

I said it not for closure, not in hopes of hearing it back, not to get over her in any way, but because that’s what I felt. I understood what I was feeling, even though (or maybe especially because) I could never have known I had the capacity to feel it.

Only if I really loved someone would I find it worth mustering the courage it takes to tell them – especially if I knew it wasn’t mutual. Such irony; I knew I did, because she didn't.

Shouldn’t there a better way to learn about feeling love? Eesh.

Anyway, that was the first of numerous occasions where I would end our calls like that.

Afterwards, we asked our sisters what they and their boyfriends had in common. I also asked Ray what he had in common with his girlfriend.

Yo

What do you have in common with your gf

[Ray]: Idk

[Ray]: Is this just a random thought

Kenzie asked

[Ray]: Was that just random?

I guess

[Ray]: Hmm
[Ray]: Not sure really
[Ray]: Sometimes I feel like we couldn’t be any more different