Where did that go.
Hopoe, where did you go.
I remember that the day you went to attack me, when you told me I was complaining, for some reason my eyes got locked on one of your collarbone tattoos.
I had noticed it back on the day we met.
That day I wish I could come back to and restart, making different choices so you don't turn on me, and I get to keep you.
I don't know why my eyes just focused on that. Just like I don't know why, the day I went to confront you in November, I zeroed in on the upright rugby ball, and the... Lorraine? Or Papal cross? And the last time I came to your office to speak to Austral, you weren't here, but a lot of the stuff you had was gone. Stitch and Angel figures on your cupboard.
Your treillis jacket on your chair.
Where did you go.
Hopoe.
Where. Did. You. Go.
***
That day I said how much I loved your accent, drunkenly, trying to compose myself because I was already going haywire about you inside but didn't know if you were available or even if you were too old for me, so I held myself back.
That day where you accused me of complaining. And I broke down.
I can't make sense of this.
It feels so unreal, like, how did this even... get there?
In June 2025 I was meeting you for the first time. I don't recall the exact day. Might've been June 12, because on June 11 there was that phone call where I had to force the breakup out of my ex. But it might've been 13 because I think it was on a Friday?
That day when you were the first to come and see me at the office, much to my surprise, and you whispered.
The charge in the air, Hopoe.
A year later, I have been broken beyond recognition. And I don't know about you, but you're not the same anymore, and I'm sure it doesn't all have to do with me.
You turned into something unrecognizable the minute you chose holding onto whatever resentment you had instead of releasing whatever was bothering you, or maybe talking about it like you preached dialogue.
You're still utterly unrecognizable to me and I feel the Hopoe that has blocked me almost a month ago is... not you. It's another Hopoe.
I say that I have been broken beyond recognition, but I guess some parts might've survived, because I don't inherently feel like a different Hi'iaka. I just feel like one that has been broken further than she already was. A broken vase someone kicked and broke absolutely worse.
Possibly completely beyond repair at this point.
But you? Where are you? Where have you gone? Where has all of this gone?
What is up with you? What has taken your place?
***
I can't make sense of this reality. I don't even know anymore. I don't know how things can fracture just like that.
"I don't like girls", you said, that day.
But Hopoe. I didn't ask you whether you "like girls". This isn't the point. This is entirely besides it.
That doesn't explain what we had, Hopoe. It's obvious this isn't the real cause. You would've put a stop way before. You would've never remained around me for weeks.
The women you pretend to be like,
they don't do what you did
they actually remain calm about it,
and don't explode at you.
Why have you never spoken?
You've never told me what was on your heart.
"Tell me what's on your heart", I said.
It remains locked, and I don't know if I'm the only one it is locked for, but I think that perhaps it is locked for everyone.
They just don't see it because they don't look past the surface.
They see the Hopoe everyone sees.
But they don't dig.
I have this silly habit of getting interested in people, silly me, you know.
Especially if I like them. Just so I don't like a false image of them.
Just so I know their least desirable qualities and still choose to say "yes" because all of the other things are worth putting up with.
***
That day in June, where did it go.
The smile that changes your face, where is it.
Your voice. Silent the whole time. You're so expressive in your voice
you were shutting it down around me, all silent
cutting off exactly what made you, you
You're a speaker, a teller of things
but you distort it with lectures and superiority
you orate, you don't communicate
you're just making a whole lot of noise without saying a thing
to say a thing would be to admit what's inside of you
what scares you to the point
you would rather kill the one who actually tries to get you
to speak
to unload this heart of yours
I'm not your enemy, Hopoe.
I just
Please speak.
Please stop killing yourself with all of this silence
Please stop destroying yourself by hiding who you are
to everyone
not just to me
Please lighten up again, light, light, light, TURN ON THE LIGHT
You're dying
I can't save you
HOPOE TURN ON THE LIGHT...
I'm not talking about doing it for me... but for God's sake please wake up
stop deluding yourself with status, with promotions, with career
please come home.
Please come home Hopoe
release the stones
and come home, come home,
come home
I don't need to say those three words
just...
you still have a chance. At turning things around.
please take it.
please.
Mais mon bras, il a l'impression que ça a duré une éternité.
Je m'étais dit que s'il avait ce qu'il voulait on en parlerait plus
mais trente ans plus tard,
j'en parle encore."
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