The Wings Of A Caged Bird | First Draft

chapter 51: about feelings

With a deep breath, I move on to Dawn's next note.

Last night's breakdown was a rather serious one. But later, when I thought calmly, I realized what July said was right. I don't have to read these with the intention of understanding Dawn. Is it ever possible to fully understand someone? No, these are just words Dawn left for me. Thoughts he wanted me to know, things he wanted me to remember. And that's exactly how I will see them now.

For this note as well, Dawn has marked a line, said by Toru to Naoko — "Both of us have a lot of feelings we need to get out in the open." He had a lot to say about this, because there are two whole sticky notes filled with writing. I prepare myself for the worst again.

Lately, I've been wondering about the consequences of lack of communication between two people. A hole is created, and that hole only gets bigger, until it's too big and too deep to fill up. I realized I willingly dug that hole between us to protect you from my pain, but when the pain got too unbearable I tried to blindly reach you again and fell into the hole, and that was the end. I realized I tried to protect you when I wasn't even strong enough to protect myself.

Do you understand what I'm saying, Cedar? I think: the inability to express our feelings to someone in the open, depends more on us than the feeling itself. A fear of rejection, or invalidation. Fear of being selfish and burdening others. Or sometimes a fear of acceptance even, because what if the changes are hard to deal with? But I wish I had tried to fill the hole first instead of jumping into it. And what I wish more is that I never let the hole be created in the first place.

— D

With every word, the sinking feeling in my heart deepens, going further down, intensifying. His words make me ache, because I can hear the deep sense of regret in them. He has truly exposed himself naked in front of me through these notes.

I realize that it makes me feel somewhat relieved that he had as much regrets as I do. However, I don't think it was only his responsibility to fill the hole. It was mine too. But I didn't even notice the hole, or even if I did, I didn't bother to acknowledge it.

I let out a deep exhale and close the book. I lean the back of my head on the bedside and stare up at the ceiling.  "July?"

"Yeah?" He faces up from the sketchbook.

"What kind of things did I say to you when I was drunk?"

"You wanna know?"

"Was it things like how much you mean to me, and all those stuff?"

"In a way, yes. But you said them in a more forward way. You said . . . you said, Take me with you. That's what you kept repeating again and again. You won't say something like that normally, would you?"

I bite my bottom lip. "Maybe."

"You said other things too but I'm not gonna tell you what those were, hmph!" His voice is filled with mischief.

I roll my eyes. "I don't want to know either, hmph!"

Take me with you. An irresponsible, unrealistic thing to say. It's true. I wouldn't let those words out of my mouth if I was in my right mind.

I say, "You know, you are probably the only person with who I've been the most open about my feelings. But I think that came more out of the certain knowledge that you will soon be gone, so there was always a sense of urgency within me to tell you everything. But it's not the same with the other people in my life, even if I know they are as temporary as you and Dawn. I don't know why it's like that. It's like . . . the stronger my feelings are, the less words I have to express them."