Oj, ružice rumena...

 

Oh ruddy rose,

why have you blossomed so soon ? 

Blossomed so soon,

Why have you hanged your head?

My love had left,

He had left somewhere far away

for three high mountains,

for three deep waters,

He won't come back

In two or three years...

Online communities

 So, the only reason why I'm not deleting Discord at all is that there's a fair amount of creative stuff of mine in a server. But otherwise... I think I'd be pulling the plug on it.

I haven't been on it ever since shortly after my suicide attempt. On July 13 I posted a message in a server I'm in (French community that has no idea I'm Hi'iaka), saying that I just got dynamited and needed a Discord break.

But the truth is, I don't miss Discord. I'm not all that keen on being into online communities at all anymore, and it feels strange, because I pretty much grew up on those.

Bit of Hi'iaka lore coming, but from ages 12 to 22, I was a furry. That said I started drawing less anthros and more humans in 2016-17, then a sort of original species in 17-18, and then I went back to anthro art in 18-20 and then switched to only humans in 2022. I do sometimes still draw some of my anthro animal characters, but I definitely am over the furry thing. 

Not only that, but I was in multiple communities at a time. I did have friends at school, but I mostly hung out on Skype, then Discord. I had friendships spanning years and years at a time. There's one friend of mine I've had since my deviantART days, we met in 2013, and now she's having a baby and just has let me know yesterday. Fun fact, she likes to go by Passiflora, but if I have to name her on my blog, obviously, this cannot be her name lol. But she's Norwegian-Thai. 

I also was on forums, but ye. In adolescence and all throughout young adulthood up until now, I was mostly living on online communities. I went through so, so many of them. I had so many names and identities, yet I was always the same person. Hell my website under my old identity is still up, and I'm not planning to take it down. But I'm not really planning to be Hi'iaka in the places I used to be known.

And honestly, yeah. If there wasn't that trouble with my creative stuff, my lore dumping... I would've deleted Discord. 

I don't know if it's just me getting older. I don't know if it's because I've had a regular job, a more "conventional" life, or if I've just grown out of it, but... I don't know. I'm just not really all that into having online friends anymore. I kept a handful of them and that's it. It feels that perhaps all those online communities and such were contributing to my already growing sense of chronic fatigue. I just don't have the endless energy and bandwidth I had as a teenager and younger adult.

I sound like I'm getting old as fuck, but that's how it feels. I literally would feel guilty if I abandoned a community for too long. Now I guess I don't have to anymore.

Plus, I think getting involved in offline communities is better for me in the long run. We haven't really evolved to be constantly online.

...Despite the fact I did grow up near-constantly online and I have to confess that I have trouble not living through the interface of the Internet because the damn thing was my back door ever since I was young. 

I do use Facebook and Instagram quite a bit, but that's just for entertainment and coordination of stuff, and keeping tabs on people and have them keep tabs on me. But that's it really.

I wish though for a day where I will finally find the offline world more stimulating than the online world and will be able to just pick up a book, or watch an episode of an old TV series on an old CRT I would've bought and adapted to digital stuff without being online.

And also I'm not going to do like those performative idiots and post all about it on social media.

Perhaps I'm already heading this way? Though, like anything you've been doing all your life and shedding for something else, it takes time to be in your new state?

Hikianalia

There it is, I've met Hikianalia. I've also more or less got acquainted with four other women from my group. Don't know how old they are... but I will refer to them as Vela, Puppis, Carina, and Argo. This quartet is from a town that's a bit far away from here. Meanwhile, I live just fifteen minutes from the dance school. Their entries in the name directory will be filled as I get to know them better, but I should see them on Tuesday. They are going to do two classes a week, one intermediate-advanced and one beginner, because they have some planning troubles.

Not gonna lie, I spent the whole day, and especially afternoon, anticipating anxiously. I just would not feel good up until I would've met Hikianalia and given my papers for registration. I was so nervous I was nauseous and took an antiemetic before dinner. It doesn't help that my period is taking a bit of time to actually end. Been having some nasty cramps and bits of brown blood still coming, a week after it started. This month's cycle seems to have been particularly painful, but again... given what I've gone through, is it any surprising? 

I took my car and went there. I was nervous, very nervous. I knew that it was probably going to be a matter of getting easy. But I kept getting Hopoe in my mind. Dance and Hopoe are inevitably intertwined, and by dancing, I felt that I would be reliving the trauma, despite it not having happened in a dancing-related environment at all (save, maybe, for the recital, but that just wasn't the worst part). 

I waited only for a few minutes with the others before a tiny, but massive woman came. Hikianalia. I knew how she looked like, but to know how someone looks like and then seeing them in real life are two different things. I knew she would be short and stocky, and that her pregnant belly would be visible, and I had heard her voice already, but I had never heard it in a space. I had never felt her presence for real. It really takes meeting someone to get a vibe.

There were quite a lot of us here. The room was small, for some reason she didn't have us practice in the bigger room. But that's okay, it was fun. And there's something really cool: Hikianalia doesn't just teach ori tahiti. She also teaches other Polynesian dances, including... hula! And this will be important later.

Vela was the one to talk to me first. She had a massive frangipani flower on her ear. Then came Carina, who seems to be forgetful of a lot of things but kinda chilled, the big Argo who is apparently the most experienced of the four and also has a tatau on her arm, and Puppis with her pretty green eyes. I think Puppis may be from Reunion or something. She definitely is mixed white-creole of something, but it really gave Reunionese vibes. I'll ask her, anyway.

I told Vela that I had three workshops, including one in Toulouse. She asked me with whom. I told her it was with a teacher I will refer to as Nalani. Paumotu girl, a little younger than me, who wanted to open a dance school in Toulouse... except it appears that perhaps those plans fell through, because at the moment, she's in the East. It's that workshop in which I did my first fa'arapu, but also I came thirty minutes late and I blew a fucking tire trying to park. It was a fairly memorable one.

I was nauseous as fuck, though the antiemetic would make sure I would not barf in the middle of the room. Plus it was hot and stuffy in here. For some reason nobody thought about turning on the four air conditioners. 

But the minute we started doing the tamau... the nausea eased. Just like that, it was gone. It would only come back during the parts where we did nothing, but I'm pretty sure it was anxiety + endometriosis.

Suddenly, I was happy. I was not as fired up as when guys beat the to'ere, but I was happy. I was dancing. 

"Ah."

Just that. This little word captures how I felt.

"Ah."

We did fairly basic stuff, but that was fine. It was merely the "open doors day". 

***

Now, what would I say about Hikianalia, who is the most important part of this entry? 

She's very flexible, fairly laid-back. Loves to crack jokes, even on her weight. She introduced herself at the beginning. "I'm Hikianalia, I'm married to a boy who is here, a Frenchman, I have two children, seven and five... I am pregnant", nothing that I have not discovered yet, but it was sort of funny having her say all of that when secretly, I already knew. 

When I intuited that she has great compassion, I think I got it right. She said that we can talk to her anytime, that she isn't curious or prying about her students' personal life, but that she was here to listen.

She always says "I'm nice". Said it three or four times. Hah. 

Indeed she is nice. Indeed she is chill about planning, she is ready to adapt, she is always ready to adjust because everyone here is an adult and she, herself, has a pretty busy life.

Between her two, soon to be three kids, two things she's doing outside of the dance school (one of which I know to be her missionary activities in the Church of the Latter-Day Saints, the other one... probably a job?), she is well aware that sometimes you're not always up to doing things or that your schedule just may be packed. And she's pregnant, so sometimes she may just take a little break during classes.

She's basically very much adaptable. And sweet. That's undeniable. To her, dancing is not just a physical discipline, but also an emotional one, and she expects everyone to be implicated and committed to the practice. In all, we have a similar view of the practice. It seems that she is safe to be around, though obviously, I'm... wary of actually saying she is. Again, I will say something about this at the end.

But. And this is a hard but.

I would absolutely never take advantage of her kindness if I were ANYONE. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that if she's ever crossed, she wouldn't willingly make your life hell à la Hopoe, but she'd probably be so firm that you wouldn't do it twice. I just wouldn't want to mess with her in any way. 

Beware of the nice ones. If you think you can get away with shit, you find out easily that you can't.

And... you know? It's weird to say, but if anyone were to cross her, I'd retaliate in private, myself. Not so much to protect Hikianalia, she doesn't need to be protected. But I'd retaliate because you don't fuck with people who are kind.

*** 

That said, after the end, and once my turn came to talk to her, I told her that I had endo and that while it's not a counter-indication proper, I might get a bit tired during practice. She said that she gets it, some of her students have the same illness, and that it was okay if every now and then I couldn't attend. That I should just text her to give her a heads-up, which I would do anyway out of decency. 

I also told her that I am a bit hard with trust as I'm just out of a pretty terrible period in my life, and that I may take a while to open up. She gets it. She's not going to judge.

Also, very good thing, my classes are on Tuesday evenings and Thursday evenings, but I don't have to stick to just one of those days: I can come on either. Again, if anything in my usual pattern changes, I will tell her just so she knows. 

***

It's weird, but I feel, deep down, a sense of safety that I might not have felt with Hokulea. 

If you put them side by side, you can see how opposite they are. You get tall and thin, airy and fiery Hokulea, on one side. Married, but might be trans, and has no children. She has an airy voice that kind of undulates. She feels dramatic. And mostly... she gives me a very cliquish vibe. I mean she's the type of person to post targeted messages on Facebook, towards her former friends who were talking shit about her, alongside a photo of a mug she happened to take in her cupboard that says "sorry that I'm perfect". Hopoe even commented on said post. Like I wouldn't be surprised if Hokulea loved unicorns too and was the type to hide behind pride when really, I'd come in DM and say "Hokulea. Admit you're fucking hurt. No shame. Anybody would have their heart broken by this".

Hikianalia is small. Stout. If she were Hokulea's size, she'd be impressively massive, but her massiveness is low, and she just gives me the impression of a large ball. She has a voice that is much "rougher", even if not hoarse or anything. It just feels like a rough diamond. She's earthy, with perhaps water and fire somewhere. But she's younger, a mother, and doesn't give me the impression that she is cliquish at all. She's... weirdly nurturing. For sure I wouldn't expect her to mother me (we only have a few years of age gap!), but... she feels more mature and reliable than Hokulea, who is a teacher, yes, but it feels like her students are also her friends, and potentially there could be a bit of a divide between "who is part of the Hokulea clique and who is not".

Hikianalia feels more like a teacher who has a community of students and makes sure to nurture them, on the other hand. I just would not expect her to act like a middle schooler past the age.

I wonder if she'd like Hopoe at all. Again, at the end...

Considering I'm very sensitive to being part of the "clique", due to bullying at school and being the kind of kid that's picked last, called creepy and scary, rumoured to sleep with knives and to use period blood to draw (when I simply experimented once with a cut on my finger), I think perhaps joining Hokulea would've been premature. And I have a feeling something with the ginger girl specifically could've sparked. 

***

Either way. The surprise at the end is...

...that Hikianalia knows Hi'iaka.

I actually told her that it was cool we would also do hula amongst all those dances, because I would live up to my online nickname, which is Hi'iaka. 

She seemed to love it. Said that she'd remember it for later. 

I've known my dance teacher for a goddamn hour and she already knows about my hidden identity, and she seems to love the idea.

I guess that she probably knows about the part of the legend that is about Hopoe. If indeed I can confide in her, I will maybe tell her about "my Hopoe".

About the fact I had a Hopoe. I did have a lover who taught me how to dance, even if indirectly (since she's sparked the dancing thing for me out of curiosity), and that she turned to stone. It was not the work of my sister Pele. It's her who, one day, turned into stone, and did not just do that: she turned into stone and sharp spikes started to come out of her, and that I never knew why.

And that forever, she lives in the pearl on my neck, and in the tattoo on my right arm, and that... I don't know. Inside of me, I do want to meet her again. When she's changed. When karma has blown up in her face and given her a dose of reality, and that all I want is to depart with her. Con te partirò. 

Ah, also! I will tell her about my novel. If she happens to know anyone who likes to read, or if she likes to read, herself... but that's gonna be in a bit. 

***

Either way... I'll give it time. But weirdly enough, this looks like something potentially healing for me. Yes, I'm careful about saying that, because people have seemed plenty safe, and then turned out not to be.

But Hikianalia... she looks safe. Ultimately I'll be proven right or wrong, but if I'm proven right, she could become a major figure of my personal history.

To think all of this was a dilemma, at first.

To think she may not know Hokulea at all, and yet she's rising alongside her in my skies.

***

To Hikianalia, to Vela, to Puppis, to Carina, to Argo, and to everyone else I have not met or talked to yet, see you on Tuesday.

Sorry?

 Sooo... yesterday, I got an email from my advisor. I hadn't heard of the lady in a long time, ever since my suicide attempt.

It appears that at my old service (where Hera is), they're looking for two contract workers and one of them could end up in an indefinite duration contract (the famous CDI). I'm likely to be chosen for that if I do apply, except it feels a bit too premature to come back there. Like for God's sake, I drove 500km A WEEK AGO. And the contract is a month long only! No guarantee of getting indefinitely hired. And I think this is for titular personnel anyway, not contract workers like me... though I could be wrong.

Stupid timing though. I literally leave because I have no guarantee of being able to stay and the uncertainty is too much to bear, and barely a couple weeks later I get this thrown in my face. Damn that was really worth uprooting my whole life, was it.

I could've danced with Hokulea! Though Hikianalia looks good too. And I can't wait for tonight.

But anyway, I replied:

"Hello Madam,

I hadn't thought of letting you know, but following a traumatic incident involving someone from outside my department within [base] (which led to my hospitalization from 8 to 9 July), I spent three weeks on sick leave, wondering how I was going to manage going forward, and then I finally chose to terminate my contract [in my service] on August 14, telling myself that I wasn’t going to spend my life on sick leave, that there’s already a hole in the social security system and that there was no way I was going to contribute to it.

It wasn’t just that: I was generally exhausted and my role in the unit hadn’t been stimulating me for some time. I had figured it out all within a month and a half and after that, I started to get bored. What’s more, the move to the new building, which is much more cramped, wore me out in only a few weeks. Six people in total in a tiny office. In the old one, I had at least high ceilings, but in the new one, they’re low.

I returned to the South on the afternoon of August 22. Returning to [city] seems premature at the moment given my condition, although the offer of a possible extension to an indefinite duration contract at the end of the new contract is very tempting.

That said, do you have any information on which part of the service one of the two contracts is in?

Kind regards,

Hi'iaka"

And then, the evening passed. 

This morning I get up and open my emails. I get this reply.

"Hello Ms. Hi'iaka,

We do not have this information available. The recruiter is looking for candidates with the right skills for two roles within the [service] department. Our organisation’s role is to put forward candidates with the skills required for these posts.

Given that you have worked for this department on several occasions, I would suggest you contact Hera or Mr. Civilian Personnel HR Guy [he doesn't play a sufficient role for me to name him] directly with any questions regarding the two positions, should you be considering applying or wish to receive further information about the working environment.

Furthermore, as you have mentioned during our sessions that you experience general fatigue on a daily basis, I would urge you to carefully assess your own ability to take on a full-time administrative role. Indeed, it might be wiser to consider applying for part-time or adapted roles, such as those designated as for disability holders, for example, for which you are eligible as a holder of this status. Thus, if you choose to apply for this type of role, it will open up more employment opportunities and help improve how you feel about your health.

As we have already discussed, I can only recommend once again that you contact [employment structure for disabled people], which will be able to support you in finding suitable roles and help you benefit from all the support they offer in this regard.

For this, I would ask you to contact the structure that is in your local area.

Thank you in advance for your understanding.

I wish you a speedy recovery.

Kind regards."

I'm fighting my hardest not to tell her to go fuck herself. 

I'm also still hurt over this distant tone. I still remember when she used to be warmer towards me, and how it just... went cold once I started expressing how desperate I was after failing my professional exam. There was a "before failure" and "after failure". How her tone changed. How it was never the same.

How it absolutely doesn't make me want to talk to her at all anymore. Even for pro matters. If I sense that you go cold on me after having been previously warm, I close off. If you can blow hot and cold like that I just don't trust you anymore.

My ability to hold on a full-time job?? Are you fucking serious?? I've had a ridiculous pileup of stress packed in a few months, I was already recovering from living in an abusive home for more than a year, and even fucking Capella was worried about the new building office being cramped considering how small it is!! I had a fucking shelf fall over me that could've killed me, I had a double diagnosis of endometriosis and adenomyosis that understandably are emotionally loaded for me and plus dealing with the disease itself, I had two fucking historical heatwaves happening back to back while I was living in a room that was trapping heat, I've had major relationship tensions that had been here for months and that finally exploded in a way that broke me permanently, and I AM THE DISABLED ONE? 

It's always fucking easier to say Hi'iaka is the problem, isn't it?

Because normal people can just be in a 6-person cramped open space and not feel absolutely terrible? Because that's not objectively terrible working conditions especially when it's hot? Because being the youngest in your office isn't shitty enough on its own when your friend has been transferred, but also because when you want to close the fucking window nobody listens to you up until Capella is the one to ask? Because having been unjustly accused of harassment by the woman you love, finding out she likely did that to try and get herself transferred to run the F away from the shame of having nearly killed you, from the loss of her image, because having been gaslit by the people you considered family is somehow making me the disabled one??

I could hear my mother here. How during my NEET period, she said that I was disabled and that I would not be able to "work full-time right at the start", that I would "need accomodations", or that "part-time would be better for me".

Or how she was obsessed with the idea I had Aspergers' when I was 13, avoiding eye contact because I just didn't want to see anyone and I was already carrying a load that no young one of this age should carry, all the while I had been normally socializing in childhood (though apparently the fact I "let my friends do bad things to me" and "didn't see that they did bad" was a weird thing, and not me acknowledging I was hurt but just letting it pass because I figured there was nothing else I could do and it took me a LOT to get mad at someone then?). Again. Easier to paint Hi'iaka as the crippled one than recognize she's been objectively having it shitty her whole life. 

And then all my jobs were full-time. Limited in time. But full-time nonetheless. More than 35 hours a week. And I managed. I managed so well that I was hired twice within both structures (the port and the military), that in my recent contract I fucking caught up on a months old backlog at my old service. I only burned out when it turned out I didn't have to look for the missing documents myself, but instead had to ask colleagues to go look for them, effectively turning my mission to very repetitive and unstimulating work of "are all docs here? yes, no, if no, ask around, receive document, put paper on Capella's desk, put folder in archive, next". 

Yes I'm fucking crippled. But not because of my head or my body.

I think ANYONE in my position would've been crippled, and it's a fucking miracle I still have a survival instinct at this point and just didn't go straight for more lethal methods when Hopoe attacked me. 

But no, apparently, I should "look for adapted positions" like I'm too fucking retarded to hold on a full-time job.

Go eat shit. I refuse to even reply to you. If I do I'm just going to hurl abuse and I don't do this to workers.

Con te partirò

When I am alone

I'm dreaming at the horizon

And the words are missing

Yes, I know there is no light

In a room when the sun is missing

If you are not with me, with me

On the windows

Show everyone my heart

That you have lit

Enclose within me

The light that

You've met on the road

With you, I will depart

Lands I have never

Seen and lived with you

Now, yes, I will live them

With you, I will set out

On ships over seas

That I know

No, no, they no longer exist

With you, I will live them

When you are away

I'm dreaming at the horizon

And the words are missing

And, yes, I do know

That you are with me, with me
You, my moon, you are here with me

My sun, you are here with me

With me, with me, with me

With you, I will depart

Lands I have never

Seen and lived with you

Now, yes, I will live them

With you, I will set out

On ships over seas

That I know

No, no, they no longer exist

With you, I will live them

With you, I will relive them

With you, I will depart

On ships over seas

That I know

No, no, they don't exist anymore

With you, I will relive them

With you, I will depart

Me with you...

***

I don't even like Italian. Kinda hate it. Reminds me of my father who speaks it or uses it any chance he gets when he's only very partially Italian. His side of the family is bizarrely obsessed with its Italian heritage.

Literally watching that Romanian quintuplets episode of South Park got me curious to hear this song that Kenny practices for his singing.

I didn't think I'd find... another nugget of meaning in it. I've known that episode for years and somehow this is the time I am actually looking up that song.

You know. Despite everything, Hopoe,

at the end of the day, it's you I want to depart with. 

To somewhere I don't even know.

Crazy

 So... I just learned my mom knows the real reason why I exited my job.

Father told her that Hopoe could get punished for what she's done to me. And that, and I'm mega surprised about all of this, she's apparently attempting to get transferred to somewhere, and is "looking for trouble" to get basically dispatched somewhere else. Tracks a little: Hopoe did tell me she doesn't like the West, likes the East, hates the South. But to specifically mess with me so she'd get a transfer? Or perhaps use any opportunity she can to just destroy something?

Either way, she apparently shot herself in the foot. In the army, when you're punished, you are punished. I don't know if it disqualifies her from her officer exam (even if, again, Hopoe as an officer is honestly a weird idea, and... look at how many Polynesians are officers, that's about... near-zero). She was apparently trying to do whatever with her career and it just blew up in her face spectacularly.

All I know is that I have no idea how someone can hold onto resentment for months following a minuscule misunderstanding that would've been solved in five minutes, and that negativity is just making her ugly. That I don't recognize my Hopoe, the one I fell for. The one who looks thirteen when nobody looks. The one whose smile changes her whole face, and whose voice gets me weak in the knees in a way no one else's does.

Now my father is my father. I can't quite tell when he tells the truth because he's lying so much that the rare times he does tell the truth, I can't quite believe him. But in this case, perhaps he is indeed telling the truth. 

I guess their "good" relationship got tarnished after all. I remember the praise in his goodbye speech.

"Hopoe, the beauty and the temperament of a warrior encased in an envelope of softness".

Welp, my guy, I guess you regret your words now.

Mom hopes she does get punished, because I ended up leaving my job, almost dying. She says that she thinks Hopoe has a few screws loose, and that it's good for her that she gets punished. 

Me? I'm not happy about it. I still am not. I'm angry at Hopoe, yes. I'm disgusted at her behaviour. At times she makes me want to barf. 

But happy about her getting punished? Absolutely not. 

Mom doesn't understand "how I can still have compassion for a girl like that". Because Hopoe sure didn't hesitate tearing me down like that. She didn't hesitate throwing me under the bus for, apparently, her own gain.

I didn't tell her that's because I love her. 

I said that I spent months covering her because I didn't want her career to suffer. That such things could have an impact for years. That your reputation could suffer. Imagine people getting your file and finding out that you had a conduct that almost killed a young woman. 

I also told her about her age, the fact that she's turning 40 in a few months. Mom is hella surprised. She thought Hopoe was my age. Well, nope. We have almost thirteen years of age gap. Ten centimeters of height difference, and she's roughly twice my weight. 

I don't know if she knows that this is also the person whose pearl I am still wearing to this day. And who is inked into my right arm now, alongside my own flower. 

But yeah. Apparently, if I had remained at my job, I wouldn't have had consequences. The investigation must've taken place, or not, but either way, apparently it was said that "this was private matters" and had no business being taken to the workplace. And indeed it was. It was just between the two of us. Hopoe might've weaponized it for whatever reason, but it looks like she got a karma blow instead.

I'm just not feeling well about this.

And again, nobody gets it. 

But Mom, if you were in my position, wouldn't you get it?...

Doing my bed

 Yeah. 

It's such a small detail in appearance, but I've been making my bed every morning ever since I came back. Don't think it's because I am at my mom's. I would leave my bed messy AF during the heatwaves, but now... perhaps it's because I have a nice bedspread that makes my room look straight out of a 1992 photo, or perhaps it's just that I have the energy, but I'm doing it.

I had been leaving my bed all messy since June-July or so... 

Boxer braids

Might seem entirely silly but I needed to say somewhere that I spent the whole fucking afternoon trying to figure out how to do boxer braids and I finally managed to do decent-ish ones.

I wish I had a sister growing up, honestly. She would've taught me how to do hairstyles. I barely know how to do anything other than braids (and I didn't learn how to braid until I was 18-ish!), I'm still terrible at buns, and most of the time I either use a claw clip or a ponytail to hold my hair up. I have to teach myself this shit and... well. Makes me feel a little lonely. I wasn't also part of the girly crowd as a teen. I was fairly reclusive, I was convinced I hated everyone, and I didn't want to get attached to others because the minute I got in the south, I was sure I would move away again. I did make friends, but very few made it to the point I invited them to my place or vice versa: I wasn't comfortable having them over, or having my mother know about my life, at all. So I would avoid anything close.

Still, some of them remain today. Including Rose. But those are few and far between, and even to this day, I'm uneasy when I have to tell my mom about my life. Might have come from the years of having been constantly overprotected and monitored.

***

When I was little, I had my brother, but since we have almost a decade of age gap and he went to live with his biological father at age 15, I spent most of my childhood and teens as an only child. And when I finally got to be an older sister at 16 then 20, I wasn't living with my sisters.

And even when I lived with my father from December '24 to March '26, I didn't even get to be fully an older sister.

Why? Because my father was looming. He was always watching like a hawk. Making sure I was not a bad influence? I think he's just obsessed with control really. 

I was once watching the launching of the Discovery space shuttle. My soon to be 10 year old sister was in the room. I asked her if she wanted to see a space shuttle launch. She was interested in it. 

But then father came.

What are you showing her? 

A space shuttle launching.

You're not showing her anything violent, are you?

Chill out, it's a damn space shuttle launching. It's not Challenger. It's Discovery. 

He acted as if I was showing her the fucking launching of Challenger (the one that blew up, or perhaps that was Columbia? I think both blew up but one upon re-entering, if I'm not mistaken.)

That alone deterred me from trying ever again to be a big sister. He was so obsessed with logistics, control, having things done at this or that hour, and his face, oh God, his face always had that "contracted" expression when the sisters were here for the week. He never looked at peace. He always looked tense.

My sister once talked at length about something for half an hour during dinner. I was listening, though I didn't get it much. He, on the other hand, was watching the clock and his wristwatch.

Whenever she'd talk to him, he'd say:

Good. Now eat. 

No care. No curiosity. Just "hurry up, it's gonna be bedtime". Sending them to bed right after dinner, like that's any good for digestion. Always seemed abhorrent to me. All felt like it had to fit into a tight schedule and all felt just unnatural. 

In the end, I might've been the only one who listened to them. I always strived to.

***

He'd always ask this empty, uninteresting question at dinner.

So what have you done today at school? Tell your sister about this.

Scripted. I even said how empty this all felt and how I wish topics just came up instead of being prompted, and that I wasn't bothered if no one talked at dinner.

But to him, apparently, meals had to be "a ritual". A "moment spent together". Together? The best time he had was when he was telling us his overseas/foreign territory missions anecdotes. Like the time he almost ate anaconda in Guyana, or when he went to Caledonia, or to Afghanistan. Talking about himself.

But when it came to truly getting interested in his daughters, and I've clocked it immediately with myself, it only goes so far as "I get to know my daughter through my projection of her". 

He lives through his own projections. Knows no one. 

To think Cepheus thinks of him as a "beautiful person".

***

Not only that, but my sisters are sadly fairly uncurious, which seems a bit abnormal for their ages. 

I don't know, children are pretty curious creatures in my opinion? I certainly was. I was always asking questions, when I got Internet access I would research each and every thing and get into Wikipedia rabbit holes. I was also incredibly creative, making little LPS movies, writing stories, playing Neopets... listening to music, I even watched anime in secret.

But my sisters? No passions. They did love Gabby's Dollhouse for a while. Now the oldest is into Kpop Demon Hunters, the youngest is slowly abandoning Gabby to go towards other shows, but it's mostly a closed-off world of Netflix, child-friendly stuff, children's things, and nothing adult. Nothing that would expand their consciousness. They're not avid readers, either. I was one. Still always have a book by my bedside and my bookcase is getting too small. 

I was horse-crazy growing up: they have no such passion. No real hobby. They just. Consume. Content. They don't go into crazy cultural or musical or scientific rabbit holes like I would. Like for God's sake, I was hella into Ancient Egypt, especially mummies, when I was 10 years old. It was one of my biggest passions ever, and I still do hold mummies dear: I have a book about them, and not just the ones from Egypt. 

Are they ever going to get such a passion? In fact, do most people ever have one? I can't imagine my experience is so unusual, is it?

I can't even blame them. I'm just afraid they'll grow up to be mediocre adults and I don't want them to be. Granted I'd still love them if that was the case, but that would be hell of a disappointment.

With me, they act smarter. Their language changes. Whenever father is around, they act almost stunted, very "childlike". My oldest sister even told me that "she feels she has no brain" when she's around him. 

I can't understand growing up in a bubble like that. I know, because even though I wasn't "kept into a bubble", I was already suffocating in my parents' view of me. I would go on Skyrock, I would lie about my age online to talk with tweens and teens, or even adults on forums. At 8, I was pretending to be 12 or 13. Don't know if my cover was perfect but I pretended to be mentally behind. I just could not stand being "a child".

***

It felt like my parents always saw me only through that lens: a child. Not a person. A child. I was raised almost hidden for years because my mother was afraid my grandmother (paternal) would track us down, learn about my existence, and then ask to have me over legally. She did meet me after the divorce, twice, when I was a teen, but 1. I didn't trust her, she acted very manipulatively as expected and 2. she died of breast cancer shortly after. Who I was as a person didn't matter. How I felt about being overprotected, kept inside, not allowed to play outside unsupervised, did not matter.

That might have been what led me, at the age of 8, to suddenly get the "white rage" washing over me when I would ask to be left home alone. At the time I had a bunny and a guinea pig. I would call my friends over the landline and discuss the attractiveness (or rather, "prettiness") of Japanese voice actresses, but... the white rage would take over if I didn't. I didn't know why, but I would get a sense of wordless, pure rage, clench my jaw and teeth, and take it out on the guinea pig. Throw the poor thing, hold it by its leg, wanting to hear it scream. 

Immediately after, I would regret it and feel bad and also feel scared that they would find out. But I remember more of that feeling of "fuck what did I do, I'm sorry". 

And when they'd get home, it would be as if nothing had happened.

It's chilling to think back about it. I know I was a kid, but still. In retrospect, and I've explored this when I was still in therapy, I think the "white rage" was pent-up anger I was neither allowed to express nor to feel, at all. Since any talking back or expression of annoyance was seen as rude, or had been probably scared out of me when I was much younger, then I would repress it. 

I've read that children who abuse animals have seen abuse in their homes, but I hadn't. Just... yeah. Probably pent-up anger I had no idea about at the time. I just knew I had "it". 

I abused small pets from ages 8 to 10-ish, and got cats afterwards, once my father was gone from the picture, because he's allergic to them. The abuse on animals did not escalate to human abuse: it escalated to self-harm a couple years later, when I was 12, finally made friends, and was uprooted yet again. 

And while my mother has moved on to see me as an adult now, my father still seems to see me as a teenager at most. 

He also still doesn't understand why I don't speak to him anymore. In his mind he literally "did all" for me. "But I helped her find a job!" "But I got her a car!" "But I did this or that for her!"

Yeah? But you also kept invalidating me and my sisters. You also almost hit me. You also treat the dog like shit. You also pressure my sisters constantly. You lie. You still shit on my mom any chance you get a fucking decade after you divorced her. You cared more about the cost of a driving lesson than my health when I had to call one off because I had barely slept, was feeling dizzy and nauseous, and it was the middle of a heatwave. You also kept using me as a household employee. Always throwing demands at me. I could even see them coming from afar. And that's not even all.

And somehow you don't get it. 

***

Well. At least I've got my... boxer braids. I didn't expect this to turn into a memory stream of consciousness, but here we go, I guess?

Meeting Hikianalia and dancing again in two days.

Can't wait. :)

The resting arm and finding a friend in Capella

So, I have to talk about yesterday, and also about today.

Yesterday morning, my period came. It had been late for a good week, and just like last time, it came while I was at the hotel. I'm not sure if it "held off" until I was out of the quarters and "waited" until I was in a neutral place to begin, just like I threw up first evening in the Airbnb when I escaped my father's place in March, but both times it came in the morning after a night in the hotel.

I had eggs and bacon for breakfast out of curiosity. Usually I get a croissant or a pain au chocolat but I saw a guy, a French guy, eating eggs and bacon. Mmh, might try it. I took one of my blue pills alongside my breakfast (ibuprofen derivate, so needs to be taken with food in order not to wreck your stomach), but for some reason, the damn thing never actually worked 100%. The fucking thing literally does what paracetamol does now: work every other time, unpredictably. Like, what kind of painkiller will I have to get now? Opium or something?

But still, I had to go. So I carried on. Keep calm and carry on like the British say.

I took the highway for the second part of my trip, as I always do. The part from Limoges to where I am now is always taken via the highway. I was dreading it as I'm terrified of highways and always have to stop at rest areas because my nerves just give out within a few minutes. 

But surprisingly, maybe because of the dissociation, but also maybe because of the antiemetics I took (because anxiety tends to give me nausea, and emetophobia then joins the party and makes it tremendously worse), I managed fine. Even with feeling my uterus cramping, even with the pain in the thighs and in the legs, even with the pain in the ass, too, from sitting for so long, I managed. I didn't have much of an appetite, but again, I managed.

There's one surefire way to tell when I'm feeling uneasy versus when I am relaxed if I drive: my right hand. 

I know. This sounds absurd when told like this. 

I hold the wheel with my left hand, and my right hand is for gear shifting. But when I'm feeling scared, I grip the seat with said hand. I can grip it pretty tight, even. Or I slap my thigh to pull myself out of zoning out, or I claw at it. 

But if I rest it on my thigh, that means I'm relaxed at at ease. And halfway through the journey, though it had been probably going on for a while, I noticed that I had rested my hand. And that it had been this way, for a while. 

Me? Relaxed on the highway? Reminding myself that "it's just a road like any other", and thinking back of the snack bar incident with Hopoe and realizing this, and not the fucking highway, was the single most traumatizing thing in my life, so much so that my threat system seems to have recalibrated or that I'm just becoming some kind of psychopath?

Because yes. That's the absurd part: why am I more afraid of a social death, of psychological collapse, of attempting suicide... than of a very real danger to die in a very real potentially life-threatening situation in a very real risky environment?

Because highways, you know. At 100, 110, 130 kilometers per hour... if anything goes wrong, you're toast. Like, really toast. Cars can be as evolved and safe as they are... at this kind of speed, a human body just doesn't survive. Or if it does unscathed, it's by some miracle. One wrong move, one asshole who cuts you off, one black swan and poof. Next thing you know, you spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair, if you're not a goner, that is. I'm painfully aware of this and speed has always been a fear of mine ever since I started to drive, as I might've mentioned here. Even 80km/h was terrifying at the beginning. We are just not designed to go at such speeds.

But humans be humans. Humans be playing God with machines. Except when you're in a ton-heavy metal box going at insane speed, you better sit in here responsibly. Which many people... don't do. If I had a penny for all those nutcases spending the whole journey on the left lane or trying to overtake between two cars...

Anyway, when I came here, I was dead tired. I tried taking more painkillers during the day, alternating between my NSAID and my paracetamol, but it did jack shit. What worked was... enduring it, and burning my belly with a hot water bottle (all endo girls can relate!). I put up some of my decor, I organized my stuff... but I ultimately was done with it this morning. Haven't slept great, but that's fine. I'm still in better shape than yesterday.

***

And now for today, I texted Hera to tell her that I had arrived well. I had actually texted Cepheus yesterday, and also Esme. But I had forgotten about Hera. I also hadn't contacted Capella in a while, thinking that Hera passed her the info about me leaving my post.

I texted her today with a picture of my tattooed arm and my cat cuddling with it.  

"Good morning Warrant Officer, I didn't get the chance to say goodbye before I left, but I've made it back to the south… and reunited with my good boy."

"Hello Hi'iaka, I’m glad to hear from you and to know that you've made it back south safely and that you've been reunited with your kitty 😊 However, I’m a bit surprised to hear about you leaving. I thought you were due to stay with us until the end of October. Does that mean you've finally ended up resigning? In any case, I hope you're well and that being back is doing you some good."

"Ah, didn't Hera let you know about this?"

"No, not at all."

"Thought the news had got round, but yes, unfortunately I had to terminate. I figured I wasn't going to spend my life on sick leave, and on top of that, when I went to submit my resignation, I was in for a massive surprise…which makes me think me leaving might not have been the worst thing."

"Oh my. No, I had no idea. I really thought I’d see you when I got back on Tuesday. I'm sorry it ended like that. And your "massive surprise" naturally gets me thinking a bit 😅 but you don't have to talk about it if you don’t want to. If you'd like to explain what happened, please do. In any case, I really hope that your return south will allow you to make a fresh start."

"I came to the Colonel's office, thinking it would take five minutes. Well.. it didn't. He started talking about the suicide attempt and the events leading up to it. And I got the news that I'd been accused of harassment. I'll send you my account because it's a long story and I've never spoken about it before.  But I had to write a 30-page account with annexes to prove I wasn't a harasser or a stalker. We went to hand it in to him with Hera. Normally there should be an internal investigation into the matter, but I haven't heard anything yet"

"Thank you for sending me your account. I'll take the time to read it properly, because I'm just realizing that all of this is much more complex than I could've imagined. But above all, take care of yourself now. That really is the most important thing. A chapter is coming to an end, and I hope that will allow you to start a new one with much greater peace of mind. And if, when I'm back at work, I have any information about this that I can share, I'll let you know. Enjoy your time back in the south and your little cat, and do let me know."

"I never mentioned it because I couldn't bring myself to, but in the weeks leading up to it, I was thinking about telling you, but well... again, I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

The name of Hopoe was still at the edge of my fingers. I typed it out, but I... deleted it. I still, to this day, cannot tell her name. 

I still replied:

"And of course, we get on well as people, so keeping in touch is perfect! Thank you very much😊"

"You’re welcome 😊 And now you can go informal with me, the professional setting is over 😄 I understand why you couldn't bring yourself to talk to me about it before; these are things that aren't easy to talk about."

So, now Warrant Officer Capella is now just Capella. Neat. But honestly I'm very glad. In this service, at least, I found some really good ones. I found Esme, found Capella, even Hera despite the fact I'm not sure I could ever go informal with her in general... and I still have Cepheus... and I might hit up Sagitta or Vega sometime... 

Still, there's one thing: I wish I could've kept Cygnus. Or Austral. Or Libra. Cetus, too. I don't know whether Cassiopeia will ever talk to me again... though I don't have a feeling she blames me. More that she's ashamed as fuck.

Hopoe, well. I think this is going to always be a complex one. I can't imagine her being completely gone but as things stand, Hopoe is in the shadows. Hiding. It feels like I've got a charred object in my hands but that underneath the burned exterior, there's a big chance that there is still colour. But the thing is, I'm not allowed to rub it out of the ash. 

I wish I could've known Berenice better. I only had the chance to talk to her once.

I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to Malva, Steph, Bellatrix... all the while I loved all three. It all went so fast. Also to the ones who were on leave in my service. Blue, Chara... Minerva... Dionysus, only Theodora was there. 

But I've carried Capella, Esme, and Cepheus through the fire, at least. 

***

Also, I've received the documents for registering at Hikianalia's school. You wanna know the funny thing? She's preggers with her third child! They're due for February... but this is going to be some interesting times. 

I do hope I'll find friends in my dance class, too. That I'll be as liked as I was in my service back there at the quarters...

Arrived

 It feels unreal to have all my stuff here, and to have this room decorated, at all, but yes. I arrived at my mother's place around 2:30pm today.

Of course, I'm dead tired. I'll speak more about what happened on the highway tomorrow or later, but spoiler: I did not feel as afraid as usual on it. 

At least, my kitty is here. 

Pff, Hopoe...

 Hopoe has blocked me on FB.

Wanna know why?

I commented on a post where she had commented. 

Yes. 

I mean if she's this indifferent why even. This just proves me that if anyone's closer to being indifferent it's probably me. 

...Even as I'm not, either, and I'm secretly afraid I will never be able to see what she's up to again. That said I think it probably goes both ways.

The post was literally a video showing four octopi. It was from the association I did my first dance workshop in. The caption was, guess what the mystery behind those four is, and tell us in a comment. 

"They’re beautiful, radiant and passionate...

Can you guess the mystery hidden behind each of these octopi?

Feel free to let us know in the comments,

We can’t wait to hear from you"

Hopoe and I both commented, her first. 

"1 head and 4 tentacles. I see this as transmission. Starts with one person, and gradually four others join them to pass on the culture. Just like Hawai’i. Raiatea, the fenua, where it all began."

I wanted to comment as well, but they had published it in a story also, so I hesitated between doing so in DM or in a comment under Hopoe's. I knew that any move I would make, even if it were JUST fucking breathing in the same space, would trigger the Ms.. Just, remember what happened at the snack bar. She literally came to attack me when I had not spoken to her. 

At the same time, I figured that I had the right to exist in the same space. If every time she posts somewhere I have to hide, then what the fuck am I doing?

So I posted my own comment.

"The four classes: beginner, intermediate, upper-intermediate, advanced.

(Half-)jokes aside, I see them as the journey of the great octopus herself. How she became Te Fe'e Nui, the one who passes on her artistry.

At first, she was Fe'e Iti. She was a little octopus still, she didn’t know anything yet, but she was driven by an irrepressible urge to start dancing and to learn more. So, little by little, she made her tentacles dance. Awkwardly, but she did.

Then one day, she became Fe'e Tupu. She began to grow into herself and to increase her power. She wasn't quite there yet, of course, but she was starting to gain confidence. Her movements were gaining precision, and she had already grown so much… but not at the end of her journey yet.

And then came Fe'e Pāpū. At this stage, she began to take on a different colour and grow ever larger than she had been. She was no longer content with simply practicing and repeating her movements. She was internalising them. She was turning them into something even better. In a nutshell, she was developing her creativity in a way she could never have imagined as a baby octopus.

Her final form, Fe'e Toa, represents her mastery. She acquired such power that she boldly took it to the stage, electrified the atmosphere with some seismic fa'arapu in a tamure marathon, commanding everyone's attention with her brilliance. She was no longer just an octopus: she had become an octopus that had evolved.

And then one day, she decided to pass on her art. So she took her brilliance, and she passes it on to others... as Fe'e Nui. The great octopus".

I go then take a shower, but I can already sense in my body that Hopoe is reacting. I even argue with her in my mind in the shower.

Lo and behold, I come back, refresh the page... and her comment is gone. So is her profile. It still appears in my recs, but if I click onto it, it shows a 404.

Yep.

...I don't understand why she's still so invested in this circus. Why don't you just ignore my goddamn comment? I pretty much did. Or rather I commented regardless if you would or not. I HAPPENED TO BE HERE.

I DID NOT CONTACT HER.

For goodness's sake, I'm so pissed at how absurdly she's acting. God forbid I exist in the same space right?

Also I commented recently on another of their publications, and she was conspicuously absent from the space... when it was the first anniversary of the association. Which is her close friend's. You would've expected her to just ignore me and comment anyway.

Nah. I'm radioactive apparently.

Ridiculous.

Live, laugh, lobotomy

Writing this from the hotel.

I departed circa 9:30am this morning. My emptied room felt simultaneously like a nun's room, a hotel room, and a haunted place. To think just a few days ago, it was filled with my stuff, it was decorated, it was mine. I had a fridge and a microwave. I had my markers in their little organizer. I had my books on the shelves, my hibiscus that is too big for my ear, my mock plant, my Bora Bora postcard that I won at the festival, my 1950s Moscow postcard I've been carrying in a frame since I was in college, the matryoshka my mom gifted me when I was 16, my flower box overflowing with foam flowers, my food, my flower garlands, the photos of my cat, my grandmother's bird frame... my posters...

...and now it's empty, clean, ready for the next one, who may never know who I was.

The irony would be that for some reason Hopoe has to come back and ends up in that specific room. Or that someone who knows her moves into it. After all, she used to live in that building as well. Probably not in the same part as me (I recall that once she had to go there to fetch her galons, and it took only a few seconds, so she was most likely in the first corridor. I was in the third), but still. We could've been neighbours if she hadn't moved into that apartment I still have no idea about to this day.

After I gave the key back, I put the remaining essentials into my car. Took a last look at the parking lot (almost typed parting lot, well, indeed I parted with it), the building and its clock on the top. Military bases here often have those 19th century buildings that have seen a bunch of generations. 

Who knows if someone hasn't died in my room anyway? How many have passed through that same room? How many have slept there, been sick, and... attempted suicide?

For the latter, I'm the first that I know.

At the guard post, I gave my badges back. I did not take my knives back. I left them there. I'll have lost a scalpel, a potato peeler and three knives including the big one that almost cut into my radial, but that's fine. Those are just knives.

And those are from the crime scene, anyway.

***

I drove. I texted Cepheus, Esme. My mom. My cousin. Communicated at stops throughout my journey. I'm not one to text and drive. If I must use my phone at the wheel it's typically to use the GPS and I usually wait until I am at a red light or I just find a place to park and then I do it.

***

I stopped at a hotel mid-way through the journey, in Limoges, (as I always do, in the same hotel as usual) around 4pm. I wouldn't mind living there if I were told to, but you'll never know. All you know is that the whole time, I was NOT living there lol.

But there's something that is really concerning me. The fact that I would drive at 90km/h, then 100, and barely feel any fear. My body would indeed have its usual reactions: fear of gagging, seeming to try and "back itself" into my seat, but emotionally? I was dead. Completely dead.

I thought back about what happened with Hopoe and honestly, and I guess that says it all, I'd rather be on the highway or driving fast than relive what happened. In terms of intensity, you put those two events side by side, and so far the 10 out of 10 level of horror and pain was pretty much blown in the snack bar incident, so much that by comparison, the fear I feel at high speeds is at perhaps, 6 (if on national roads) to 8 (highways). 

Like all I feel at all is a mild sadness. It's an inkling of pleasure when listening to certain songs. Or it's a violent blast of anger when some fuckhead tries to force passing while I'm getting out of a parking spot, or overtakes when I'm trying to make sense of a city I don't know and that is in addition filled with roadwork at the moment.

I intellectually am pleased, but my core is hollowed out. There is no genuine emotion inside of me anymore. The fear of getting into an accident is also very much here, but it's quieter than usual. Not in the sense that I'd take risks or not care (because yes, I do actually care about not ending up as human roadkill?), but in the sense that... well. I'm still pushing through, barely feeling a thing.

Feels like I've had a lobotomy. 

My thighs hurt from the pedals and from sitting for such long periods of time. I also often had tension in my neck. It's not like my body doesn't feel danger anymore, if anything, I do feel it. 

My heart rate however remains normal.

And my emotions?

Again. Dead.

I wonder if what being a psychopath is like that. If it's just a sense of nothingness inside. A sense that there's just a ghost where the part of you that was alive, energetic, emotional, loving, all of that, was once sitting. Or perhaps for them, there was no such thing, ever. 

I really don't like this. I'm genuinely afraid that I will always remain a shadow of my former self.

Society will probably applaud, and say, finally, Hi'iaka, you learned your lesson! You are no longer attached, dependent, over-emotional, dramatic, whatever. People would probably love me better this way. Like me better. Prefer me docile, unemotional, and silent. 

But me? I think this is horrifying. I'm genuinely afraid I have died inside. 

Perhaps I have. I don't want to be dead inside. I want to be able to... be alive, at all? Because what is life if I'm merely staying biologically alive because to attempt again is to commit to actually finishing the job, because the ER was punishing enough to detract me from failing ever again, and I obviously don't want that, but to stay alive is to experience life in this hollowed-out way, beaten out of feeling as deeply as I would in the past? Feeling so deeply I'd be in pain, but that made somehow life worth living? Proved that I'm alive, at all, that I'm a human being that exists?

I'm so afraid that this is all I can hope for now. I wonder why I'm punished like that.

Like for fuck's sake, if I get a chance to talk to God, I'll have a word with him. 

"Why."

The Great Adventure of Hi'iaka's Microwave

 So, my car is filled up. Like, REALLY filled up. I was a bit anxious that the commander guy somehow would let me down or decide not to take the fridge last time, but he came. I got thirty euros, but I was trying to figure out what to do with my microwave. The only place where it could've fit was on the front seat, but I also need to put my snack bag, my handbag, my laptop bag, and my change of clothes. Plus my warmable kitten.

I also saw Hopoe one last time from afar. The funniest shit is that her car still is parked behind another one so I still have no idea what it looks like. It's like, you see Hopoe but you may never know what the mysterious Hopoemobile looks like. Could be a sack of shit for all I know. Or an insanely pretty car. Or maybe the same one I drive, which would be the epitome of irony.

But that's not the biggest one here. For once, Hopoe's not the center piece... 

What follows is absolutely novel worthy. So deadly ironic that I'm fucking cracking up in my almost empty room.

***

Commander guy comes, gives me the change, takes the fridge that was a pain in the ass to defreeze (and literally flooded the corner of the room enough that it took me two rolls of paper towels to actually clean it up). Pays me. We exchange nice words.

My door closes.

End of story.

...Or so I think.

Because that damn microwave, you see. I was starting to think that since I'm driving away tomorrow, I'll have to take it. Because I certainly am not going to knock on every door. I actually asked the commander guy if he wanted it, but he already has one. So I was left with a goddamn microwave that I have no idea what the fuck I'm going to do with.

You see, I hardly talk or see my neighbours. But as I take my microwave and start going to my car to check if I can't find a place for it, a Tahitian navy girl passes by. 

Yes. She had to be Tahitian. That's the most hilarious thing. Polynesia does her sweet job again. 

I don't know if it's the same one I saw in passing earlier (as I noticed that one because she literally rudely ignored me while passing by), but she comes into the building. We had never talked, nor seen each other.

Hey, maybe that's the same girl who has the Hinano car. That'd be dead funny. 

My heavy microwave under the arm, I ask:

Hey, by any chance, do you need a microwave?

I see the tattoos on her arm. Her eyes look wide. They're naturally a bit rounded. And she got a bunch of moles.

Sure, why not, how much?

Oh, ten, twenty euros maybe?

She takes her phone out.

Oh, I don't use Wero.

Ah... I can give you change, but I only got ten...

Ten's good. I don't mind. I have some trouble fitting that thing into my car, so...

Sure, I'll go get you the change. 

I hear her walking away. Then, only a few seconds later, a door opening and closing. 

Wait.

She was in my corridor the WHOLE time?? And we only come across each other now? I don't even know her name, I don't know who she is, nor what she likes, and she had to be right on my way to get my goddamn microwave.

That said, I was surprised she didn't have one. Most people would have one, I'd expect. Perhaps she eats at friends' places or at the mess hall in the evening. Hopoe certainly had one, the cooking enthusiast that she is, hidden her forbidden burners under pareus and, occasionally, puts her panties of top to really make sure whoever's inspecting will NOT uncover them. 

I'm pretty sure she was just one room or two away from me. There are no obviously Tahitian names around me but some have genuinely French names, like, you'd be surprised that they're not white. Many of them have English-language surnames due to mixing with Englishmen. Some even have Italian, Portuguese (Hani's last name is Portuguese, btw, and Tane himself is partially Italian through his mom, who has, well, an Italian surname despite being Marquesan)... in a nutshell, you can't tell one from the name only, not unless you know this kind of detail.

She gave me the change.

We were neighbours without realizing it all that time, I said jokingly.

Yeah, that's pretty cool! 

And I'm going tomorrow, so...

Oh, are you transferred?

No, I broke my contract. Was employed in the other quarter and stuff happened, so I'm going. 

Oh, well. Then, have a good journey, I wish you well, and thanks again!

Hi'iaka goes back into room, gets on blog, types, now that's the real end of story.

...Nothing's ever random, is it?

On the go

 So, given that I'm leaving in a few days, I've just arranged something with some commander on my corridor to give away said fridge. He'll come and get it tomorrow evening. Thirty euros. 

That one fridge that goes from person to person in this building rofl. 

But yeah. I'm putting all of my stuff in bags. I got a ton of tote bags and grocery bags. I don't think my car could hold boxes. Don't know if I'll keep my microwave, but I'm pretty sure it will fit. I'd only keep it to heat my warmable kitten anyway.

I cried today. Because I have to do it all alone, all over again. I actually posted Instagram stories about it because for once, it's not on a blog where nobody hears me that I wanted to speak. 

"I'm so damn sick to have to do everything alone.

I'll have to go back south in a few days and I'll have to drive 500km all on my own yet again. In all of my most defining moments of life I have been alone. Always have been.

People and society say that it's almost honourable to always make it all on your own, especially if you're a woman. Bullshit. Those people don't know what it's like to be forced to be "resilient" your whole life and that if you dared show any sign of being tired, you'll be accused of lacking resilience.

Just how many times have I literally been kicked when I was down?

How can I trust anyone after such shit happens?

I don’t like thinking like this. I feel like I’m the 16-year-old I used to be, the one who was always angry and bitter and hated people. I know I’m capable of better, but I’m in such a state that I don’t think I have the strength to become a better person.

I don’t like the person I'm becoming. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back up this time and it scares me. Cause in the past, despite everything I've remained more or less the same.

But now? I’m facing a level of horror I’ve never experienced before. And I’m scared of not finding a job, of having to sell my car, of not being able to dance or of having a bloody hell of a breakdown, of losing even more than I have already.

I’m scared I’ll kill myself on the way south. Not because I’d want to. Because accidents happen, and when you’ve already nearly died three times in a few months, you feel like death is chasing you. Absolutely terrifying. 

I didn’t survive a proper suicide attempt just to die inside, I hope?? To be nothing but an empty husk with nothing left, regressing, and who’ll never be normal??

My cat better survive a few more years. He’s the only one I want. Even though just thinking about seeing him again makes me cry 😭😭

And I’m terrified of dancing. I’ve been waiting for this since February, for fuck’s sake. I just want to be able to do it at last. But I'm so scared of what may come out the minute I do even just a tamau..."

My cousin (he's not actually my blood cousin but we grew up like cousins, and I could say he's genuinely my longest-lived friend, I've known him since I was six, so twenty-one years!) asked me about what was going on. Told him about Hopoe. Even showed him my testimony.

He came to the same conclusion as Hera: that I did nothing weird, and that I did all I could. That even if Hopoe had the chance to learn about my illness (our shared illness!), that it would probably not have changed the trajectory of things. And that Cass did me dirty on this one. She did me a "coup de pute", his words.

Please let the road be dissociatingly fast so I can get depressed and wither in peace. 

I just fucking hope I won't have to take medication, or anything. Like be forced to get on antidepressants or something.

Instability

I went to the housing service to inform the lady that I had ended my contract and that I wanted to plan the moment I'd leave. The answer I got was quite scary.

Technically, I should go on the day I am out of the job. But the resignation procedure is not taking effect until a few days, and at work, they basically are buying me time with my remaining paid leave. Hopefully it will last until Monday, which was the day I had planned to leave this place and drive. 

So that means, technically, I could have to literally leave my room tomorrow. Jesus Christ.

I've started packing up stuff. Putting my decor in boxes, checking whether this or that fits in my car. Think I'll give my fridge away in a couple of days and buy my food from convenience stores until I can go. 

But hot Lord dammit, I didn't think things could get any worse. Though I'd argue this is infinitely less stressful than when I was literally blindsided with a harassment accusation. Pretty damn nuts that I'm less bothered about potentially having to leave this room earlier than I thought than with having a literal false accusation thrown at me and possibly ruining my reputation.

No communication yet from the Colonel. I hope he won't contact me while I'm on the road next week, Jesus. 

But the scarier thing is how little I care. For things I used to care about. And how I seem to get sucked into cheap ass pleasure. Like scrolling Facebook, playing long videos, playing Cookie Clicker, walking fast and not caring much about my surroundings with music blasting non stop in my ears. What trips me is that I had been walking without music for a while, and ever since the medical leave, I'm back to it. And it perturbates me. 

Like, I've lost interest in ori tahiti as I'm about to start it. But I'm still gonna sign up anyway. Like, I still want to do it. It's just that I cannot access any joy or interest. 

I have bought two colouring books, but just colouring a page of the smaller one is tiring. I let dishes pile up. I put off the moment I go get groceries although this is usually my favourite part of the day. I even felt lazy about washing my hair a couple days ago, like, the sheer idea that I had to unplug from this endless stream of distraction was bothering me, but I ended up doing it because I hate having hair that's due for a wash. 

I want to work on my novel but I feel like I strain. Even doing my makeup, well. I do it more minimally than usual. I just feel so tired, I could sleep all day, but I still get up in the morning, get dressed, brush my teeth... but even breakfast was low effort this morning.

I don't know if I'm getting depressed, or if I'm just exhausted by the sheer amount of trauma I've taken in the past couple of months. It was even hard to start writing this blog entry. 

I'm just utterly crushed that I have to drive back to my mother's. I want to get back to work asap, but can I? I just want some income to be able to pay my gas, car insurance, dance classes with Hikianalia, and every now and then something nice. ICE CREAM, for example, or a new pareu. Or makeup, or some inconsequential thing, or a book. 

I'm reading 1Q84 which I had been curious about but barely have the energy to read more than a few pages when I go to bed. 

Just... I don't know. I guess it's normal, perhaps even expected, but...? Am I permanently broken? Will I ever get better?... I don't want to be a husk... not like I wasn't one in the past, but I genuinely don't want to be a husk. I permanently live with Hopoe, and I'm honestly not fighting it, but all I want is to have my energy back. For real. 

Might be some good news?

 I asked Hera to print out my testimony in two copies. She accepted.

When I came to fetch it in the afternoon, she gave me some news that give me a small glimmer of hope throughout this whole Kafkaesque nightmare.

During lunch break, she came across the Colonel at the mess hall. They spoke about what happened. He first asked her if I had given any news, in essence, he was worried about me. Not only that, but Hera told him that I had accepted to defend myself and give my version of events, and that I had been writing a whole testimony. He actually told her that if I wished to, I could actually give him a copy of it, and that if he estimated that the allegations were not as bad as Hopoe (or Cass? though I doubt this could've been Cass's work, perhaps Cassiopeia did tell Hopoe to file for harassment, though... I don't know really) seems to have painted them, that there might not even be an investigation, at all. 

I accepted. I had actually thought about it this morning. I had hesitated to ask her if I could get the Colonel's email to try and send him a copy, and there it is, they bump into each other at the mess hall, and they talk about it, and he actually wants to know my side of the story.

So, she gave me an envelope, I put a copy of my account into it. 

I didn't say it in my previous entry, but I wrote a total of 20k+ words in just two days. 31 pages without the annexes. The bulk of the annexes is the chatlog with Hopoe.  

Not only that, but thinking about it, Hopoe made a massive strategic mistake by deleting her Whatsapp just a couple of days after my attempt. Granted she might've done this while emotionally affected, but that's still a serious mistake when you're actually making allegations of harassment against someone... because it makes you look suspicious, especially given the timing with my suicide attempt. 

Hera believes me, by the way. She could only skim my account, but from what she's gathered, she said that "I did all that I could", with a smile. That I just happened to fall in love with Hopoe. That she has no preconceived ideas, that she doesn't know her nor assume I'm not telling the truth.

I mean, honestly, who would invent 30+ pages of events with such a massive amount of details? And add annexes and shit? It would take a tremendously methodical lying...

So, with the Colonel willing to hear my account, perhaps he does have an inkling that... you know. 

I sent a text to Cepheus on the way back. Now waiting on the Colonel to contact me again regarding this. 

Still, I wonder what the consequences on Hopoe might be. One thing sure, if indeed harassment is not demonstrated, and given all the incriminating behaviour in the account, she may very well get an earful or two...

But one thing sure hasn't changed: where my Hopoe is, there's some novel-like shit going on.

I hope you're well, in spite of everything.

Even if... you know. That might not last.

But honestly, thank God I left my job? Imagine the logistical nightmare if I had stayed. Hopoe for sure could've pressed more charges against me if I just happened to be in the same perimeter for any goddamn reason...

Shooting the one you love

 I finished up my report on the entire sequence of events, from beginning to now, with Hopoe.

Needless to say, I'm broken.

The fucking thing is 50 pages long with the annexed documents.

I'm not even sure that it will be sufficient. I guess that the game is rigged against me anyway, and that there's always someone to tell me that my care is conditional. Or that "did you think about whether Hopoe wanted to reconnect with you". 

Or to be told something among the lines of "you only care about someone as long as they fulfil your wishes" or whatever else.

Or just to have some consequences. 

I'll print this shit tomorrow.

Investigation

This morning, I went with Hera to the chief of admin formation (basically one of the higher placed colonels) to terminate my contract. I went in, tired because I didn't sleep too well last night because of how hot it was, absolutely NOT expecting what was about to hit me.

We went to his office together and sat at his desk. I thought the whole process would be five odd minutes long. He's not the one I knew: he's an entirely new guy and came here recently.

So, why are you resigning, Ms. Hi'iaka?

I have been on medical leave for three weeks, my colonel. I am not going to spend my life on sick leave, so I'd rather... end it here.

And what was the reason for this leave?

I do not want to talk about it.

But you will have to tell me.

I said it, my colonel, I'm sorry but I cannot talk about it.

But you will have to talk about it, because there are events associated with you-

Don't recall how he phrased it but at this point I'm thinking "god no-"

...You have attempted suicide, am I right?

My heart already starts to sink. 

Yes.

You have had an entanglement with first sergeant Hopoe...

Oh God no-

...You fell in love with her, she was not interested, and things culminated into an altercation at the mess hall, around July 7-8...

I didn't just break down into tears, I literally shattered into them. Torture. I just wanted to escape, at this moment, but obviously, you cannot escape such a moment. You're just here. You just have to take it in. Have it thrown into your face just like that.

...and first sergeant Hopoe has allegated that you were harassing her...

"Harassment".

The word. Just that word. It finished me off.

I could not speak. I was so shocked, so beyond shocked, flabbergasted, astounded, the entire world was breaking down under my feet. I could barely mutter that I had not harassed her, but I was shaking, crying, I wondered if I would not just faint from the sheer shock of it. 

***

I can't put the whole conversation, obviously, but he said that she "felt harassed". That he could not validate either "feeling". That "how I felt may be different from what she felt", like, for God's sake...

...like, harassment? You fucking for real? 

How many times did I confront her? Twice. In the span of eight months. I went once in November 2025. I went to her at the June 6 recital. Literally twice. I never went before or after that, before because we were on good terms and I would come by to say hello to the others. 

How many times did I reach out to her via text after she had started icing me out in October? Twice. November 4, 2025 to wish her well for her exam, and May 8, 2026 to literally say "hey, it's been a while, hope you're good, I'm good, take care, see you later".

How many times did I follow her home? I literally have no idea where she lives. I have an inkling but I haven't looked and quite frankly I shouldn't and I am not intending on doing so.

How many times did I follow her to her car? Again, no idea what her car even looks like. Strange thing for someone accused of harassment. Even at the fucking recital I just saw the keys but have not the slightest idea what the corresponding car was. 

How many times did I follow her around when she was icing me out? If we don't count June 6, effectively zero.

Did I reach out to her after she blocked and unblocked? NO. 

Did I ever call her? NO. Absolutely not. 

I did NOT harass her. And I was here, already grappling with the trauma of what happened, and on top of that being painted as the aggressor. The best is that I knew such shit was bound to happen. Why? Because I'm always the fucking scapegoat in any situation. Or because of something way less personal: aggressors and abusers are often the ones who are believed over victims. And for me, I have this track record of not being believed, anyway. There's no way it could change. There's no reason for me to imagine that it's ever going to change. No, I'll always be the problem one. And I'm a woman, looked at by a man. And I'm young. Like.

I cried, and I cried, and I apologized to him. I felt I was making a scene. He said he had no side taken, neither mine nor Hopoe's. That he was not judging. Just handling a professional case.

But for God's sake, it felt like everything was rigged against me. Obviously I got platitudes, I got told to get help, see a doctor, that in the state I was in (crying and shaking) I had to "see a doctor". That I had to calm down. It looks like being shocked, in grief, or just plain broken by something very real, is something to have treated with a doctor. It's a pathology. My colonel, with all my due respect, have you never seen a person properly break down and then calm down?

I told him that anybody in my position would have broken ages earlier. That it made perfect sense for me to be in this state, and that it wasn't a pathology. That people have been suffering from heartbreak, sometimes in a deathly way, for ages, and that nobody batted an eye or tried to paint them as crazy, or to get them committed to some ward.

But if it pushes you to harm yourself, then it is pathological.

Would he say that kind of stuff if I was his own daughter?

Now, Ms. Hi'iaka, I have to tell you that you are forbidden to contact first sergeant Hopoe in any way, to approach her on the territory of this base, and you are forbidden from going into the corridors and offices of any other service than your own. 

Huh, well, I was not really planning on going, anyway. She's the last person I want to see right now.

Since there is an investigation procedure in this case, an officer will come interrogate you and collect your account about it.

Good Lord. Considering I go mute when talking about it, I guess I'll have no choice.

I'll have no choice but to betray Hopoe. Because I can't lie. I'm a terrible liar. And I just do not have the energy to, you know...

The conversation went on with more irreverent stuff. Then at the end, when he finally let me out, he asked if I had any questions.

Will there be any consequences on her career? Will she be okay? I just don't want her to suffer through any of this, I shielded her at all times, hell if she were shot I would've taken the bullet without hesitation-

What consequences would there be, anyway? he said. What consequences?

My heart stopped yet again. I was not over the first shock that this happened. In his mind, was I truly the stalker one?

And whether she'll be okay or not, I cannot tell. Ms Hi'iaka, I am not in any position to say that, this is not my role.

Also... does the no contact rule go both ways?

Yes, it does. So we can separate you two. 

When we left, Hera led me directly to her office. She did not want me to stay alone. I do appreciate it a ton, but she paints the whole thing as a simple "heartbreak", not a fucking soul-shattering thing. She asked me questions about the whole thing. I could answer about the first suicide attempt, recounted the incident with Cassiopeia the day before, and how Hopoe had ambushed me the next day. The first few weeks, the teasing, and the silent treatment. I did not go into detail. I just said roughly what happened.

Hera does not seem to see me as the problem. She tells me to defend myself, to defend my dignity. That such investigations exist so I can do it. I guess that if she did see me as the problem, she wouldn't tell mee that, right?

But there's an annoying thing about Hera: she misunderstands entirely the reason why I sometimes go:

...Well, I don't know if it has happened to you before, but...

But Hi'iaka, how do you know it has not happened to me? You think those things only happen to you?

No, I mean, I'm putting yourself in your shoes. I expect anyone to do so. If you were in the same situation as me...

But Hi'iaka, I am not in the same situation as you, so-

In all, apparently it's wrong or weird to be able to imagine another's perspective and inhabit it, or at least try to? I'm like, but picture yourself doing the same, picture yourself with the same conditions...

I don't know if it's a lack of empathy or intelligence, or just that I work differently, but it's apparently not a common thing. Yet I'm often the one told "put yourself in x's shoes". Like I'm not fucking doing that all the time, yeah.

And to her, what I would be doing would not constitute betrayal.

And of course, I have to "move on", and the positivity stuff, and she revealed that she's a divorcee when I assumed her daughters were from her current marriage, yada yada, you always heal, I did not forget my 20 years of marriage and yet...

Hera. Come on.

I think this world will never quite be good to me, will it?...

***

I went then to plan my move. I gathered my things, checked if I had any relevant emails. Nothing. Theodora was the only one in the office. We barely spoke, though she was not hostile one bit. Just, her pro self. I wish Capella had been here though. Capella...

And then, after some more talking with Hera, I went to say goodbye to everyone. It's August, so a ton are on leave.

Sagitta hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Vega was here, too. Bless them. I love those two. Sagitta is blunt and says that I will eventually heal but it does not feel like the platitudes I was told. No, I could see in her eyes that she saw how absolutely wrecked I am, and she is not shying away from it. I can't imagine her shying away from anything, at all. Vega said that every now and then I could message them. I could, yes. I want to.

I could say goodbye to Patty, too. To a few other colleagues have not named. The only one I did not say goodbye to was Leonard, fuck this guy. I wish Chara, Blue, Janus, Minerva, Capella, Passiflora, even Dionysus and co were here. 

But they weren't. Sadly. It was a quiet departure for me. But I will be missed. I was told by my colleagues that they'd miss me, and I feel comforted.

***

Hopoe, I'm so sorry, I just don't want to have to tell the whole story.

To paint you as the one who overreacted. 

But my voice has wrecked havoc again.

This time I'm not getting out unscathed. 

...

I guess neither do you.

"You have to move forward"

So, apparently, I should just "move forward" knowing full well I traumatized some people. Ah and also that at my age, I have "my whole life ahead of me" and that I have to be positive and that I have no right to just wither like that.

Cepheus, as much as I do love you, I can't just "move forward". It's not "okay" that I did traumatize people. It's never "okay". I get that you want me to be happy and that you work like that, but I don't. I can't just live with myself knowing I harmed people. I still blame myself for having protected a friend I was terribly jealous of by cutting her off for years and very abruptly. She doesn't hold it against me but I always remember what I did. 

***

"Hi Cepheus, I hope you and everyone else are doing well, despite the recent events. By any chance are you all here tomorrow or Monday? I'll be going earlier than expected and I would just like to come and say goodbye. I didn't actually go back to work at all after my attempt. I went back to the office when I returned from my leave, but I couldn't last the whole morning and had to take sick leave."

"Hi Aka. First of all, thanks for your message. I’m doing quite well, but, just like you I imagine, I’m absolutely sweltering.

What do you mean by "leaving early"? In any case, it’s probably best if you don't come in – there's nobody, or hardly anyone, in the office, and those who are here are still quite affected by the events you mentioned… I think we need to give it time!! I hope, in any case, that you're feeling better, that you've been able to make the most of these last few weeks to gradually get back on your feet, though I do think that getting back to work too quickly wasn't really the best option.

I personally didn't quite dare disturb you, but I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Above all, look after yourself and let me know why you’re thinking of leaving early. Love. Cepheus.

PS: I can come to see you too."

"I’m going to have to leave early, that is, I'm terminating my contract and heading back down south for at least some time. I'll come back here at some point though, I mean, I've started to build a life here, I've got ties here… but to be honest, I tried going back to the snack bar and I just couldn't. As soon as I was there, I was shaking and I could see it all again, I could hear it all over again. I shouldn't have come back straight away, but as I didn't know I could get a sick note from my mom's place, I ended up coming back.

But ye, I barely made it to the end of the first morning that I had to get medical leave, and I thought to myself, right, I ain't gonna live my damn life on sick leave; there are already enough holes in the social security system. No need for me to add to them, y'know.

On the surface I'm doing a bit better, even though deep down, I feel like I'm not the same person anymore. Something inside me broke, and I don't know if it's something that can ever really heal, even with an immense amount of willpower. Let's just say I've regained some strength. Was sleeping a lot. But... I feel like I’m in the middle of a field of ruins that’s also riddled with landmines everywhere.

If there's no chance I can come and say goodbye, yeah, I'd like it if you came round.

Affected, yeah, I was expecting it. Even those who will never dare admit it. Hence why I was not saying a thing and why I was so adamant on it not being known... because I knew damn well the consequences. I already feel that my mere existence creates catastrophes, so the minute I actually open my mouth, everything goes off, and I was in a terrible dilemma of shut up -> suffer -> eventually die, versus speak -> destroy everything AND be responsible AND be considered the crazy one and... well, you see now. I just hope you don't resent me."

"Don't worry one bit Hi'iaka, I don't blame you!! I imagine sincerely that nothing is that simple and this is why I'm with you! I'll come see you tomorrow morning if you want? 9:30 to 10am? Just tell me where you'll be."

"I won't be around tomorrow morning, I'll go resign alongside my superior [Hera], and I will speak to the big boss [I don't know how to translate that acronym but he's basically the chief of administrative formation? kinda]"

"Well, in this case, I can pop in at 3:30-45pm, is that better?"

"Sure, you can."

Then it was about my building and all. 

***

When he came, he handed me an envelope with stuff my father received on my behalf. I didn't find much of note: just took the address to be able to send stuff to my sisters. He literally added me on the fucking mailbox. It's pretty damn clear that I'm never going back to live with him and yet he still acts as if I will. No, thank you. 

We went in the staircase to talk.

I asked him what happened after my attempt. He doesn't know. He was on leave after all, and it seems no one came to him with it despite him being the team leader. Where's the dialogue? In the team with Bellatrix that I had, the colonel damn sure would've known those things. She was adamant on being the one people went to. I'm surprised that he doesn't have all that much of a window onto the group itself. He knows that Hopoe and Cassiopeia are still raw from what happened, but very honestly.

It was nice seeing him, but I can't quite remember everything he said, because I dissociated through a lot of it. It was the kind of stuff that just made me lower my eyes to the side, or go "mmh, I don't believe that". 

In all it just felt like he was talking at me. Not so much talking to me. Or rather, yes, but half. He does care. He doesn't do it to hear himself talk. Because all he did was not empathize, but just say his usual platitudes. At times it felt like a sort of lecture, and I was lost. *

He wants me to "move on". To "move forward". To "gain perspective". Precisely the kind of stuff I'm tired of hearing. "You won't advance if you don't put a foot forward". By the way, he tells the same to his sister who is going through a rough time, so I guess this is just how he does things.

But. Who said I want to advance? I told him that I just get fragmented more and more each time. That I appear to move forward, but that I'm not. But again, his response was to say that I have to move on, that I have to move past things, that... well. All the stuff I'm told. 

The most glaring thing to me being the fact that "you traumatized people? Ok! The past is in the past, you do it, you move forward". Does he not... every worry about the impact he has on others? Like, he's all about "going forward" and "never giving up". That's what he teaches his children. He also pushes therapy. Says I should "see someone" and that "maybe I didn't find the right person". Yeah right. Like that ever helps. Plus when you're literally mute when it's about the most important things...

Sometimes though, bad things lead you to good things.

But, Cepheus, I nearly died. I hate this reframing. Because that implies that somehow there's good to be found in that? No, I think that sometimes shit happens senselessly, that it teaches you jack shit.

But, you know, it can help you move on, move forward, you'll meet new people... people who will accompany you... [I'm not finishing this one because I can't be bothered, it's the same thing over and over again.]

Or things like, "would you hurt yourself for those people who hurt you? Because in nine times out of ten, they don't deserve it". 

Mmh. That's true, but, you know.

"What you did wrong, you must not repeat it". Yeah, because I want to repeat it maybe? 

In all, he just pushes me to move forward and not dwell on things. Time will do its job, he says, regarding Cass and Hopoe, neither of them he did name. "And maybe some will circle back to you". 

I do hope for it, but... I'm still not the same as I used to.

"We'll talk about it in five years".

I don't even know if either of us will be alive by that time.

***

Yes, I will remain in contact. But I don't think I can confide in him anymore. 

"It was really good talking to you for a bit, Hi'iaka! Take care, especially, that's the most important thing, and see you soon. x Cepheus"

I reacted with a heart, because I do appreciate it, but... it just completely misses the mark for me.