The Cinematic Orchestra -- To Build a Home
There is a house built out of stone
Wooden floors, walls and window sills
Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust
This is a place where I don't feel alone
This is a place where I feel at home...
Cause, I built a home
for you
for me
Until it disappeared
from me
from you
And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust...
Out in the garden where we planted the seeds
There is a tree as old as me
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed its knees
By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top
I climbed the tree to see the world
When the gusts came around to blow me down
I held on as tightly as you held onto me
I held on as tightly as you held onto me...
Cause, I built a home
for you
for me
Until it disappeared
from me
from you
And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust...
__________________________________
There is something beautiful about a long-term relationship, something immeasurable, something...irreplaceable. All of us have at least one person who has touched our lives so deep they leave an imprint that we carry for as long as we live. Parents, siblings, lovers, friends. Together you build a house for your heart to live in, a house built to last an eternity.
Today, exactly one month ago, I lost my best friend of over twelve years. More than my best friend, as a matter of fact. I lost a brother of different parents. No, I lost a better part of myself. We did not grow up together, but we ventured into adulthood side by side.
I left high school a social pariah. I had built a wall around my heart to prevent myself from getting hurt. Not again, I promised myself. But apparently God had plans for me. The Absolute always does. During my pre-university registration, I made friends with a boy as skinny as I was, bespectacled just like me, only slightly taller. Back then, almost everyone was taller than I was. He stood out because he did not wear the prescribed attire. He looked lost, helpless. He didn't get the registration guidebook, thus I gave my copy to him. I am a sucker for the lost and helpless.
True to my word, I made friends with the people around me--boys, girls, teachers, even stray cats--without getting attached to anyone. The wall I built was intact. Half a year went by, and without my realizing it, the friends I made erected houses around my wall. They made permanent residences inside my heart, and a healthy number of them remain my lifelong friends. But the boy I helped earlier, he took down parts of the wall and installed windows, doors, floors, ceilings, and a roof. Gradually the wall I built became a house of stone. Gradually it became a home.
We are opposites. I am introvert while he is extrovert. I am bookish, into artistic flights, while he is rooted with basketball and soccer. I do most of the talking, and he the listening, though sometimes it's the other way around. He's the type who backs away to give space to cool our heads when we fight, while I need to fight and argue to work things out. Seeing our mothers, I can tell where we get our traits from. But we are not opposites all the time. We share a love for video games, of genre movies and TV shows, of comics.
A lot of people don't get our relationship, sometimes thinking the worst. They don't get how different I am from others, that I'm not made to 'blend in'. This is not a matter of sexuality, but a matter of individuality. I fit neither in the world of science, nor in the world of the arts. I love them both, yet am scared of them at the same time. As an individual, I have never belonged.
God. I wanted to bare it all. I wanted to talk about the little things that finally brought us to where we are today. He has honesty issues, worsening over the years that I can't tell where the truth ends and the lie begins. He has trust issues, so convinced that he can only depend on himself that he shuts others out. He doesn't see that people love him and are there for him. I, on the other hand, have stolen his privacy from him, secrets that he doesn't want anybody else to know, sometimes not even himself. I have this issue, you see, where I push the people I love the most, to see how willing they are to stay. Push too hard, you'll reach a breaking point.
A house is built on trust, brick by brick. And trust works both ways. It is sad that we came to a point where we couldn't trust each other. He would prefer to lie rather than facing the consequence of a fight or a disappointment from truths. I would doubt his words and would resort to spying to get the truth.
I wanted to say a lot of things, but right now, I can only recall the good in him. In his own way, he's protective of the people he loves, and I had been included. Of all the people I know, he had the highest level of integrity. Life hasn't always been kind to him, dealing him with challenges, but he always faced them head on, unflinching. He's kind and tolerant, and no matter how much I screwed up, he used to let things slide. Most of all, above others, is that he made me feel like I belonged. I am--was--a better person around him.
It has been a month since we ended our friendship in a spectacular fight. A part of me is still in denial, hoping that we'd patch things up again, like we always did. I still worry about him, though I know I no longer have the right to do so. I still try to send a message, to call every few days or so, but I'm met with silence.
Maybe one day I'll talk more about this, once I live through all the stages of grief. Not many people will understand my friendship with Reza, but it was something beautiful, immeasurable, and irreplaceable. Maybe one day we'll learn to trust each other again, earn each other's trust again. For now, the furniture in the house is covered with sheets of white, the windows and doors closed to keep the memories in, but unlocked against the day they would be opened again. But the house is built of stone, built to last an eternity. Maybe someone else will come knocking and inhabit the house with me, but there'll always be room for Reza should he come and visit.
We are not friends, Reza, but family. Family members screw up, go at one another's throats, break one another's trust. But I have come to realize that no matter what, family is family. Nothing will change that. I hope that one day, the love that had turned to hatred, will turn to love again. You won't be reading this, but I will express my sorrow, my regret, and my gratitude for the years we had each other's back.
For now, I will take care of the empty house where I never feel alone, where I feel at home.