Let’s begin by setting the record:
I pass everything. Almost to a fault. I passed all my school exams. All my dancing exams. Driving tests. Life. I succeed even when I believe failure to be imminent. I even pass when a person tries to test me, my reactions. I do not like failing. The only thing I have ever failed: Chemistry at school. The single only exam I have failed. When it happened, I was proud of it. I welcomed it. It reminded me that failure is a part of life. Acceptance is the next stage.
This is where I am beginning to struggle. I find myself feeling the impending future edging it’s way closer. This one however, unlike exams, I cannot prepare for. I cannot read a text book, study day and night, learn the answers. The answers are in the inevitable. Fate has them. And I am in fates hands. Acceptance of this failure isn’t in me. I cannot bear the thought of losing…
I should perhaps explain exactly what it is that I would be to lose… Losing in this case, would mean losing something I feel I could never regain.
At some point over the last year or so, I have fallen. Fallen to some extent (the depth is still unknown to me) for that crazy, perfect American I met in a shop in California and continued to communicate with. When I returned and had the best holiday of my life (that’s an honest fact), I thought that was it. And yet the conversations dwindled. The connection slowly disintegrating. One day, we spent all day in one another’s company. The next, we are strangers on the other side of social media to one another. On the other side of the world. It’s horrific to think that for me, he only exists on a virtual platform. People live their lives like this; in love with a virtual avatar they have met online. The difference is that I have seen him. Touched him. Shared his house. His bed. He is not just pixels on a screen I long to meet. He is flesh. Blood. Talent and philosophy.
I broke down the other night, considering how I am not good enough for someone I find quite perfect in return. I realised that every wall I built up over the years had been crumbled by him. Without intention he had released me. To the rest of the world, I remain a cold-hearted individual without sentiment or consideration. To myself, for him, I am weak. I am unable to cut him off as I do with anyone else who does wrong by me. But the American…its impossible.
He is my failure. My impending ruin. He is my Chemistry… Maybe that is the issue; we are Chemistry. What we have together. What I feel for him. Therefore it’s simply prophetic that it fails. Perhaps it is deeper than that! Perhaps I am hydrogen. The element with only 1 electron. Destined to spend life attempting to pair. A free radical in a universe of bonds here there and everywhere.
Doomed or destined. Either way, my fate seems sealed. With his replies (or lack of) and my quaking heart, it is a path set in stone.
That is the word. The description of myself.
American. English. And some unjust Chemistry within. It’s all there.
Fate can play his hand.