a portrait painted in nonexistent colors
“i hope i’d make them proud/if every younger version of myself could see me now” - august james, “fever”
Editor-in-chief's Note: The piece contains potentially disturbing suicidal thoughts/ideation, faint themes of SA, and mentions of drinking.
dear past vi,
do you know who you are? looking back at you now, you spend too much time thinking about this question; there is no reason, at least in my mind, that you need to prove that the answer to this question is “a good person.” you never have to ‘prove yourself’ in order to have what you’ve always wanted, because in the end, all you desire is to be heard and seen, and for someone to tell you that you deserve to be happy.
i remember that you spent a lot of time staring at your bedroom wall, silently beating yourself up for every mistake you’ve committed, for every sacrifice you never made, for everything you could’ve done better. you still do that to this day — habits are hard to break, aren’t they?
however, they’re not impossible to break. i know it seems like such an unfeasible task, to change someone as broken and as flawed as you are, but i promise that it happens. so, to show you that it truly is possible, i propose an alternative question: do you want to know who you have become?
i don’t think you would be proud of me, but i think i’m much happier than you ever have been. well, daina said, “you’re much harder on yourself than anyone else” so maybe you would be proud of me. i’m not really sure.
anyways, i’m going to assume that your answer to the second question is yes. here are some moments that define who you grow into:
you cried on the bathroom floor a few hours ago — it was cold and bright, so your tears were the warmest thing to touch your skin. the tile pressed its square pattern into your cheek as you laid there, a reminder of how unforgiving the world seemed to be.
you went to the laufey concert, and you loved the bass that is just so slightly loud enough to drown out the thoughts in your head. right next to you is your best friend, who convinced you to go to the concert instead of ESP elections. she’s not even paying attention to you - she’s focused intensely on laufey and you can’t blame her.
you laid in bed with your boyfriend until 1 pm on a wednesday despite the fact that you had a 009 lab and a paper due that night. his soft kisses peppered your skin, and suddenly, all you wanted to do was watch his eyes dilate as he stared at you.
you sometimes had to force yourself to keep your eyes open so that you don’t end up envisioning yourself on the longfellow bridge, tying your wrists and ankles together so that you can’t swim. sometimes, while you’re on memorial drive or harvard bridge at night, you glance over at the rainbow lights in the distance and wince.
you impulsively bought a meta quest 2 off of dormspam and five games immediately after setting it up. you text a group of your friends that you have a surprise for them and tell them to meet you at 6 at maseeh. the childlike glee that comes from holding digital cats in neko atsume vr is unparalleled, and all you want to do was share it with them — and that is what you did.
you get drunk on random nights just because you feel like it, and your friends have to hold you back from drinking more than two shots at a time. either you end up throwing up all over yourself (sorry mahdi) and the floor (sorry angela and geoffrey), or you end up drunk-calling eleven people in the highest-pitched voice a human could possibly produce (sorry angelica, jared, zi, allen, yaz, claire, mahdi, yoland, josh, and daina).
you were in the psych ward a few weeks ago, and you only cried once (on a sunday). you cried over a twenty-two-year-old ‘25 who hurt you in ways that you never thought you could be hurt before. you still miss him, but you’re trying your best to let him go.
you got a mini projector that you keep above your bed to project lyrics onto your ceiling. sometimes, you just lie there and watch the words march on, line by line. it’s nice, isn’t it, to have someone put your emotions into words for you?
you made fun of your friend for being into younger people despite the fact that you make grooming jokes (where you’re being groomed) constantly. it’s ironic, isn’t it, how a year ago, i was—you were—dating someone younger than you?
you got sick before finals — which seems to be a recurring pattern, considering that you got sick two weeks before last semester’s finals — and you laid in your bed for a few hours waiting for your boyfriend to bring you food and medicine. you two are horrifically cringe, but that makes you love the relationship even more.
you and your mom and oldest brother took most of your stuff out of your room—rip maseeh 6020—to prepare for the arduous task of moving out in four days. your roommates, your best friend, and your GRAs all called you by your actual name and your family didn’t even notice. it turns out the world doesn’t end when your family learns a bit more about who you are.
you are trying your best to internalize that it’s okay to say no, that you don’t have to force yourself to do anything, and that you’re never obligated to do anything for anyone. it’s a lot harder than you think it is, especially since you always lived with the belief that you were nothing more than property, a thing to be used, a one-dimensional obsession to escape into. but all you ever owe anyone is your best.
and your very best is what you’ve given everyone, time and time again. as a certain someone you cut off told you once: “i’m proud of you, for everything you do — to take care of yourself even when it feels like the world is weighing so hard on you.”
now, all you need to do — and can do — is believe in these words. take care of yourself, vi. it’ll serve you a lot more than you think it will.
with love,
vi trinh