Growing up, I thought that I was a happy kid. I mean, in general. I had friends, I had books. I was painfully shy, to the point where having to talk to someone I don’t know on the phone would send me into nervous fits of crying, and it’s true that I was constantly being told that cartoons were for little kids, and I was confused because everyone was boy-crazy and I just wanted to kiss my friends.
I still, somehow, thought that I was happy! But, looking back, everything that I wrote was seriously filled with bucketloads of angst, and I’m not trying to depress anyone, I just want to share my journey with you. ^^
When I was 17, I wrote about wanting to die from the loss of love: (I had never actually been in love, mind you. Never even dated anyone.)
Kiss the Rain
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
Can you hear me? Can you hear me?
Stray echoes bounced off the rain-drenched sands, each one reaffirming her knowledge that she was being left alone. Her tanned skin glistened under the white gauze dress that she wore, which, soaked, clung to her lithe figure.
Strands of her hair hung in her eyes, the golden auburn turned dark brown from the torrent. Her shining eyes stared bleakly at something in the distance, barely holding in her tears. A cold wind ripped past her and she shuddered and sneezed, raising a shaky tan hand as if to touch the emptiness that was left after he had gone.
She wrapped her thin arms around herself and stared down at her chest. Tears slipped from her tightly clenched eyes and she opened her mouth as if to scream. But only the slightest cry of anguish came from her throat and then it was lost in the wind.
She opened her eyes again, clouded, unfocused, staring at her life crumbling before her. A flash of lightning illuminated the figure that walked hunched over through the mud in the distance. Her soulmate was walking away. A whisper escaped her lips, “I’ve lost myself…”
Her left hand traced a shaky circle on her chest. Her eyes cleared for a moment, and she raised that hand toward the sky, bringing the other to her chest.
Then she brought her left hand to meet her right, shoving the blade of a short dagger straight into her heart. The color drained from her skin. A clammy hand grasped clumsily for the dagger’s hilt and yanked it out. A strange smile crossed her features as the rain splattered against the dagger, washing it clean of her blood. She laughed, and blood choked her throat. “Fitting,” she whispered, “that it… should not wa-” she was racked by a spasm of coughing, “want… to be taint… tainted… with my… blood.”
The life drained out of her features, the maiden’s eyes clouded again, and she collapsed into the mud. The dagger slipped from her hands and fell beside her face. Drop by drop, the cold lifeless rain carried away her life’s blood into a small puddle.
It seemed like a careless action, as the dying elf lifted a trembling hand to her mouth and kissed the palm. The blood the palm left on her face washed away, as did the last kiss when her hand dropped listlessly to the sand. She coughed and whispered to the rain, “A last kiss for you, my friend, as I have kissed the rain.” She closed her dull eyes, and rain filled her torn heart and extinguished the spark that had been her life.
And I also wrote (19) about being saved from death by the addition of love:
Her fingers closed tightly around the sharp dagger in her palm, and the elfin maiden took a deep breath as she raised her arm. The cruel blade shone evilly and the intent was written in her clear blue eyes– to put a final end to the pain and suffering that was rending her heart wide open.
Something brushed against her shoulder suddenly, and she dropped the dagger in surprise. It landed blade-down with a cold swish in the grass, burying its tip in the virgin earth. She spun around slowly then, wary, her eyes landing on the very male chest of an elf right behind her. Her gaze traveled up his pale neck to rest on his eyes.
His gorgeous eyes, she thought, as hers met his and a spark not unlike lighting ran up her spine.
The elfin maiden’s heart raced as he touched her shoulder lightly and ran his fingers down her arm to take cup her hand. Her held her delicate fingers in his warm palm, and brought them to his lips for a brief, sweet kiss.
If the touch hadn’t turned her from her decision, it was the look written in his eyes. His blue eyes were so.. gentle, and as they stared into hers they pierced her soul and she felt his unspoken questions, ‘Why would you give up on your life? Why would you leave us.. leave me?’
Tears suddenly spilled over and ran down her cheeks, and her legs gave way beneath her. She started sobbing and leaned into his waiting embrace, as he sank down with her to the ground. She buried her head in his chest and wrapped her arms around him. Her voice, when she spoke, was little more than a whisper.
“I never want to let you go.”
She paused for a moment before continuing, “You don’t know how grateful I am that you care enough to be here. I’m.. happy.. that you are here.” She hugged him harder, shivering despite the warm summer night, and closed her eyes. “If you promise to stay, I won’t ever leave. I won’t ever go…”
Once, a friend whom I wrote this sort of thing to (other writings that were similar– these were private stories that I never shared with anyone), asked me if I was depressed, and I was like, “No. Where in the world would you get that idea?” I had hidden it really well, even from myself!
My 16th birthday party.. I thought that was a “happy” smile.
Looking back, I prooooobably wasn’t the happy kid that I thought that I was. I wanted to escape a world where hardly anybody cared at all about me– about the real me, in any case. I had just gotten really good at ignoring the fact that I felt alone, and so I was able to pretend to be happy. That’s also why, when I have found love, it’s been so all-consuming for me, and the loss of it makes me feel less worthless than a pile of doggy doo.
17, on the campus in my high school.
I still have huge bouts with depression and self-worth, but I think that I’ve come a long, long way. Working in manga, writing for Asahi Weekly, and starring in the tv show really helped me feel that yes, indeed, I was a person worth something.
Love, I suppose, is something that will have to come in time. Maybe?
This, again, used to be my happy smile. I mean, we’d just won!
Ack, this was pretty darn depressing, wasn’t it! I didn’t mean it that way. I just came across some old writings on my hard drive, that had been transferred from computer to computer to computer, from back in the time of 3 1/4 inch floppy disks. Somehow, I’m not sure how or why, through various crashes and complete wipes of my hard drives, and moves across oceans, they had somehow made it onto my little laptop here.
I was still a nerd. That has and will never change. 🙂
19 was a particularly hard time in my life. I was seriously depressed, and for the first time, I knew it.
This was my Glamour-shot “happy face.” Actually, the photographer told me to look into the mirror like I was looking into the eyes of my lover, and I was like… I’m 16! I’ve never had a lover…
It sort of seemed like fate that I came upon these writings just now. 🙂 I’m also trying to shed the old me and work on a brand-new, sparkly me! One that is worthy of all of the attention that I want. At least one thing came of being introverted and depressed– and that’s that I buried myself in my books and learned up a storm! A love of learning is still a big motivator for me to this day. <3
Basically, I want to turn this: