Jasmine Scented Smoke
Title: Jasmine Scented Smoke
Author: undying_desire
Pairing: Any
Rating: PG
Genre: apostrophe
Summary: Some die young.
________________________________________________
Dear,
Forgive the cliché. I know how much overused stories bug you but, in my defense, this is mostly your story.
I remember your smile still. Those crooked teeth of yours reminded me of stalactites and stalagmites. Growing every which way and in all different sizes, they added to the beauty of your cave. No matter how grey the sky or how dark my thoughts, you could bring the sun with that smile.
I remember your hair. Years ago when it was still long and always hanging in your eyes. I joked about how you might as well be blind with how the brown bangs seemed to become a blindfold. Then when your hair was gone, I too wanted to cut mine short. I said I could give you what I cut off. You smiled at that.
I remember your eyes. Those orbs never gave up their glint of life. In a way, they reminded me of the statue of Buddha when I stared into them. Brown meets gold. Wise beyond years. At peace. The rest of you was quite a lot thinner than the representation. You'd make fun of me for my comparisons, but that's alright because I'd get to see your smile.
I hope I never forget it--your smile. I know I probably will. With time I'll forget your voice and I'll forget your face, but I will never forget you.
I met you in kindergarten. Do you remember? You tripped our teacher on the first day and she never came back. I thought you killed her; if I remember correctly you thought you did as well. You cried about being a murderer nearly a week later. I brought you a few cardboard bricks and said we could make a tombstone for her. You felt better after that.
That's how it started. The "murder" of a teacher and a "proper" funeral for the victim. Strange how that event brought two innocent children together.
We grew up anything but innocent. By grade five you had already made out with a number of girls. You joked about going for the guys next. You did eventually--go for the guys too. That was grade six. That's when things took a turn for the worse.
You reminded me of the little boy who was still learning his alphabet when I found you crying. You were in the boy's bathroom. I must have been looking for you to have ventured in there. After all, boys still had cooties, but I knew you were clean. You sobbed into my shoulder as you told me you weren't going to live for more than five years. I was quite old enough to understand and the thought of you falling into the cold arms of Death terrified me. I cried with you.
By grade seven you had been taken out of school for treatment. I wouldn't cry and say I missed you because this was your chance at life. So I waited through seventh grade for my best friend to return.
You did. You promised you wouldn't leave without telling me and I never stopped believing that. But you came back entirely different. You were tired. I made some lame club for sewing or something, it was just an excuse I could give my parents while I stayed after school to spend time with you. We did it for months.
It became a habit to hold you while you cried, but even then I felt you were stronger than me. Your mother left after making sure you knew that you were the cause of the divorce and the lack of money. Your father wasn't around much to begin with and eventually he was more a myth than an actual person. You called them by their first names now. I couldn't blame you. They deserved no respect.
You had two brothers. Now, you were all they had. I left you when you disclosed to me that you were using the government money for your treatments to keep your brothers happy. Their happiness wasn't worth your health.
By tenth grade you had been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count. You had a moment of hope when you were told they had removed the tumor, but that was short lived.
You picked up a few jobs to keep your brothers in school and pay bills. How you did it all, I'll never know. You must have been a magician with an act of cloning yourself. If only you had met with the devil.
During your free time you would smoke whatever you could get from your friends. You'd fuck a few girls or let yourself get fucked by a few guys. Somehow you always had your pride and dignity. I suppose it's because you knew you were a slut and you wouldn't have it any other way.
Still, you were such a hypocrite when you kept me from the drugs and yelled at me when I had drunk sex with a friend of mine. You wanted to keep me away from your life even back then.
I was your friend through it all.
I stood up for you.
The most memorable point of my high school year wasn't the sex, wasn't my girlfriend, wasn't homecoming. It was when our chemistry teacher pulled you aside after passing back a test. You failed. Hadn't answered a question. You were a genius. Smarter than me by a long shot.
You had just spent half a night in an MRI that had broken down with you in it. The test time was used to get some sleep your body desperately needed.
I overheard our teacher talking to you. No one had made me as enraged as she was about to. She pulled off your cap at first, exposing all the scars on your head that you hated so much. Then she started her tirade. She called you "worthless" she said you were an "idiot" then she said "you are better off dead."
There was a point in her degrading comments where I had stood up and moved beside you. She hardly notice at first but she certainly noticed when the palm of my hand cracked against the side of her face. I took your hand with a quick "you don't need to hear this" and walked us both out of the class.
That bound us together more than anything else had. You knew I cared and I knew it wasn't only you who was the protector.
Still, you withdrew from school to work. I knew you were affected by what the teacher had said but wouldn't admit it.
Then, you came back the next year with news that was hard for even me to take.
They had taken them. Your brothers. You said you had nothing to live for.
I told you to live for me.
Though it was an offhand demand through a text message, I think you took it to heart. Every chance we got we would hang out.
The second, maybe third, most memorable moment with you was while we were watching Spider Lilies. You didn't much care for my Asian obsession but you'd still put up with it.
This movie in particular caught your attention, and no, it wasn't just the lesbian couple, though you'd always say that. You could understand the characters. You understood how they just wanted to protect those around them but only harm came in the end. You understood their desire to love but how it seemed an impossibility due to how cursed they were.
You called me the jasmine. The one that was sweet and a gift from God. You called yourself the cursed spider lily despite how I wanted to claim the magnificent flower. I even bought bulbs of the lycoris radiata but you still called me the little jasmine.
You never had much of a green thumb. You killed our biology project by giving the bean plant too much water. Yet, you planted a seed. You nurtured that seed as if it were to become your child. That seed has grown into a mighty yggdrasil within my body and mind.
I gained hope that you would always be with me. By the time we graduated you had lived passed the five year sentence you were given. In fact, your tumors were benign. It was a miracle.
Remember how rocky our relationship was during this moment of peace? We bickered over who the other was dating and how you had sex with my ex who effectively fell for you.
Remember the shock when we were in the midst of fighting and somehow we ended up with a kiss? It was gentle. It was terrifying. You had never stuck with a girl for long and never considered anyone your girlfriend. You were there just for a night of fun and everyone knew that. But that kiss. Our kiss. It was quick. It wasn't going to lead to more.
You wouldn't let it lead to more. You knew how you were. You couldn't hold a relationship because you got bored. You'd fuck around even if we tried dating. You said it was better for us not to try. I yelled at you for always determining what was best for me. I wanted to make my own decisions but you wouldn't allow it. You told me you were leaving. You would head south.
I wish you had told me earlier what the next week would bring. We could have used the hours we spent upset and ignoring one another on time together.
A day before you left you called me. I knew you were crying. It was the shake in your voice with long deep breaths that always gave it away. I hated hearing the sound. I never knew how to react on phones. I couldn't hold you.
Then you spilled it all out.
You were going in for an operation on your recurrent tumors. They were malignant once again. You'd been given less that a five percent chance of success but you were throwing in your cards. It was all or nothing. You were tired of the fight but you still feared the end.
Life had battered and bruised you it wasn't fair for Life sell you off to Death. You were too young to die.
I cried. Normally I would remain strong for you but my tears were for you just the same.
You told me you were leaving. You couldn't leave without saying goodbye. You'd made that promise and that promise stayed true.
You said it. Goodbye.
You changed my life. I wish it didn't take something as monumental as this to make me realize that. But it did. You bettered me. Despite all your flaws--you had a lot of them--you still managed to bring hope into my world.
You weren't cursed, dear. You are God's gift. Sweet and sensual. You are a jasmine.
I will light a jasmine incense today. I'll light one tomorrow. I'll light one the day after that. I will watch the smoke rise. I'll watch the memories of you float by.
You are now my jasmine scented smoke. I breathe you in. You are my breath of life.
Love,
The part of you that's still breathing.
________________________________________________
A/N: A lot of things have kept me holed up in my own depression in recent months. This event in particular affected me in more ways than I thought possible. For a week I was a shadow of a person but I think I was being pushed towards something. I sat down for a moment of calm meditation and it only took hours to come to my realization. It's strange to think his death brought such a positive change in me. I took up the tradition of incense burning to remember him. His struggle with life and death had become a part of my own experience. The closeness with Death that he shared with me shaped and molded my belief that we should never dwell on the negativities of life. No matter how much of a struggle it may be to keep your head up and keep moving forward, it's always the best thing to do. I'll continue to live in the moment with the vigor he had. After all, he taught me we all have death waiting in the wings.
Author: undying_desire
Pairing: Any
Rating: PG
Genre: apostrophe
Summary: Some die young.
________________________________________________
Dear,
Forgive the cliché. I know how much overused stories bug you but, in my defense, this is mostly your story.
I remember your smile still. Those crooked teeth of yours reminded me of stalactites and stalagmites. Growing every which way and in all different sizes, they added to the beauty of your cave. No matter how grey the sky or how dark my thoughts, you could bring the sun with that smile.
I remember your hair. Years ago when it was still long and always hanging in your eyes. I joked about how you might as well be blind with how the brown bangs seemed to become a blindfold. Then when your hair was gone, I too wanted to cut mine short. I said I could give you what I cut off. You smiled at that.
I remember your eyes. Those orbs never gave up their glint of life. In a way, they reminded me of the statue of Buddha when I stared into them. Brown meets gold. Wise beyond years. At peace. The rest of you was quite a lot thinner than the representation. You'd make fun of me for my comparisons, but that's alright because I'd get to see your smile.
I hope I never forget it--your smile. I know I probably will. With time I'll forget your voice and I'll forget your face, but I will never forget you.
I met you in kindergarten. Do you remember? You tripped our teacher on the first day and she never came back. I thought you killed her; if I remember correctly you thought you did as well. You cried about being a murderer nearly a week later. I brought you a few cardboard bricks and said we could make a tombstone for her. You felt better after that.
That's how it started. The "murder" of a teacher and a "proper" funeral for the victim. Strange how that event brought two innocent children together.
We grew up anything but innocent. By grade five you had already made out with a number of girls. You joked about going for the guys next. You did eventually--go for the guys too. That was grade six. That's when things took a turn for the worse.
You reminded me of the little boy who was still learning his alphabet when I found you crying. You were in the boy's bathroom. I must have been looking for you to have ventured in there. After all, boys still had cooties, but I knew you were clean. You sobbed into my shoulder as you told me you weren't going to live for more than five years. I was quite old enough to understand and the thought of you falling into the cold arms of Death terrified me. I cried with you.
By grade seven you had been taken out of school for treatment. I wouldn't cry and say I missed you because this was your chance at life. So I waited through seventh grade for my best friend to return.
You did. You promised you wouldn't leave without telling me and I never stopped believing that. But you came back entirely different. You were tired. I made some lame club for sewing or something, it was just an excuse I could give my parents while I stayed after school to spend time with you. We did it for months.
It became a habit to hold you while you cried, but even then I felt you were stronger than me. Your mother left after making sure you knew that you were the cause of the divorce and the lack of money. Your father wasn't around much to begin with and eventually he was more a myth than an actual person. You called them by their first names now. I couldn't blame you. They deserved no respect.
You had two brothers. Now, you were all they had. I left you when you disclosed to me that you were using the government money for your treatments to keep your brothers happy. Their happiness wasn't worth your health.
By tenth grade you had been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count. You had a moment of hope when you were told they had removed the tumor, but that was short lived.
You picked up a few jobs to keep your brothers in school and pay bills. How you did it all, I'll never know. You must have been a magician with an act of cloning yourself. If only you had met with the devil.
During your free time you would smoke whatever you could get from your friends. You'd fuck a few girls or let yourself get fucked by a few guys. Somehow you always had your pride and dignity. I suppose it's because you knew you were a slut and you wouldn't have it any other way.
Still, you were such a hypocrite when you kept me from the drugs and yelled at me when I had drunk sex with a friend of mine. You wanted to keep me away from your life even back then.
I was your friend through it all.
I stood up for you.
The most memorable point of my high school year wasn't the sex, wasn't my girlfriend, wasn't homecoming. It was when our chemistry teacher pulled you aside after passing back a test. You failed. Hadn't answered a question. You were a genius. Smarter than me by a long shot.
You had just spent half a night in an MRI that had broken down with you in it. The test time was used to get some sleep your body desperately needed.
I overheard our teacher talking to you. No one had made me as enraged as she was about to. She pulled off your cap at first, exposing all the scars on your head that you hated so much. Then she started her tirade. She called you "worthless" she said you were an "idiot" then she said "you are better off dead."
There was a point in her degrading comments where I had stood up and moved beside you. She hardly notice at first but she certainly noticed when the palm of my hand cracked against the side of her face. I took your hand with a quick "you don't need to hear this" and walked us both out of the class.
That bound us together more than anything else had. You knew I cared and I knew it wasn't only you who was the protector.
Still, you withdrew from school to work. I knew you were affected by what the teacher had said but wouldn't admit it.
Then, you came back the next year with news that was hard for even me to take.
They had taken them. Your brothers. You said you had nothing to live for.
I told you to live for me.
Though it was an offhand demand through a text message, I think you took it to heart. Every chance we got we would hang out.
The second, maybe third, most memorable moment with you was while we were watching Spider Lilies. You didn't much care for my Asian obsession but you'd still put up with it.
This movie in particular caught your attention, and no, it wasn't just the lesbian couple, though you'd always say that. You could understand the characters. You understood how they just wanted to protect those around them but only harm came in the end. You understood their desire to love but how it seemed an impossibility due to how cursed they were.
You called me the jasmine. The one that was sweet and a gift from God. You called yourself the cursed spider lily despite how I wanted to claim the magnificent flower. I even bought bulbs of the lycoris radiata but you still called me the little jasmine.
You never had much of a green thumb. You killed our biology project by giving the bean plant too much water. Yet, you planted a seed. You nurtured that seed as if it were to become your child. That seed has grown into a mighty yggdrasil within my body and mind.
I gained hope that you would always be with me. By the time we graduated you had lived passed the five year sentence you were given. In fact, your tumors were benign. It was a miracle.
Remember how rocky our relationship was during this moment of peace? We bickered over who the other was dating and how you had sex with my ex who effectively fell for you.
Remember the shock when we were in the midst of fighting and somehow we ended up with a kiss? It was gentle. It was terrifying. You had never stuck with a girl for long and never considered anyone your girlfriend. You were there just for a night of fun and everyone knew that. But that kiss. Our kiss. It was quick. It wasn't going to lead to more.
You wouldn't let it lead to more. You knew how you were. You couldn't hold a relationship because you got bored. You'd fuck around even if we tried dating. You said it was better for us not to try. I yelled at you for always determining what was best for me. I wanted to make my own decisions but you wouldn't allow it. You told me you were leaving. You would head south.
I wish you had told me earlier what the next week would bring. We could have used the hours we spent upset and ignoring one another on time together.
A day before you left you called me. I knew you were crying. It was the shake in your voice with long deep breaths that always gave it away. I hated hearing the sound. I never knew how to react on phones. I couldn't hold you.
Then you spilled it all out.
You were going in for an operation on your recurrent tumors. They were malignant once again. You'd been given less that a five percent chance of success but you were throwing in your cards. It was all or nothing. You were tired of the fight but you still feared the end.
Life had battered and bruised you it wasn't fair for Life sell you off to Death. You were too young to die.
I cried. Normally I would remain strong for you but my tears were for you just the same.
You told me you were leaving. You couldn't leave without saying goodbye. You'd made that promise and that promise stayed true.
You said it. Goodbye.
You changed my life. I wish it didn't take something as monumental as this to make me realize that. But it did. You bettered me. Despite all your flaws--you had a lot of them--you still managed to bring hope into my world.
You weren't cursed, dear. You are God's gift. Sweet and sensual. You are a jasmine.
I will light a jasmine incense today. I'll light one tomorrow. I'll light one the day after that. I will watch the smoke rise. I'll watch the memories of you float by.
You are now my jasmine scented smoke. I breathe you in. You are my breath of life.
Love,
The part of you that's still breathing.
________________________________________________
A/N: A lot of things have kept me holed up in my own depression in recent months. This event in particular affected me in more ways than I thought possible. For a week I was a shadow of a person but I think I was being pushed towards something. I sat down for a moment of calm meditation and it only took hours to come to my realization. It's strange to think his death brought such a positive change in me. I took up the tradition of incense burning to remember him. His struggle with life and death had become a part of my own experience. The closeness with Death that he shared with me shaped and molded my belief that we should never dwell on the negativities of life. No matter how much of a struggle it may be to keep your head up and keep moving forward, it's always the best thing to do. I'll continue to live in the moment with the vigor he had. After all, he taught me we all have death waiting in the wings.