Brilliance

Everyone should have at least one incredibly sassy, indubitably wise, insanely caring friend.
Brilliance is mine.
Yes, her name is Brilliance.
A Black 26 year old Texan who, just like me, is an English teacher here in Korea.
She took my problems and over-simplified them so efficiently that they became the size of a baby aspirin pill that I could swallow and my mind, body, soul could process.
I pleaded, “Brilliance, I wish I could have him. Not for the sex because we already fucked, but because he needs someone. I want to house him. Give him the ounce of hope he needs to be happy. I was him once and what I wanted more than anything was for someone to save my from myself.”
She recoils,”Why would he buy the cow, if he can get the milk for free. He knows he can twiddle you around in him thumbs, fuck you whenever he wants, and throw you out. He doesn’t care enough about himself to seek happiness. Alcohol and sex are his happy medium. Granted, unhappy in reality, but for him it works. He isn’t some project for you to work on. Ditch that shit and find someone who will accept YOUR baggage. Be a little selfish for once! You need it.”
It made perfect sense and I felt stupid for not having figured it out on my own beforehand.
I go on to tell her, “I went home with Gareth one night. But we didn’t fuck. Instead he wooed me, took care of me. Like a wilted flower he wanted to resuscitate.”
Her eyes wide open, jaw dropped, “GARETH?! You can not, should not, will not, mess around with musicians! He only wants you for the story. He’ll just use you to write another song. You’ll turn into the chords he’ll strum on any given open mic night for others to enjoy as well. You’ll become a product.”
This also made perfect sense because as a [practicing] writer, I’ve already written about him and her and most other things. People and experiences become stories. I get it.
Finally, I bring up, “my ex got in touch with me…”
“SAY NO MORE,” she says, “don’t go letting him break your heart again. I’ve been there and I’ve done that. I’ve loved harder than ever before, only to end up alone. It might feel nice because it’s reminiscent of the time you two spent together before and no one could ever take that away from you. But unless he’s willing to make drastic life changed for you, don’t go getting any ideas about what’ll come of him talking to you. Maybe he’s just lonely.”
She was right, it has and it does feel nice to think of all the marvelous memories we created. He says he misses me, I miss him as well. He was a great companion (when the going wasn’t tough). He’s a traveler now; leading a non-permanent life with temporary people making very permanent memories. No one knows him, he’s like a ghost. Not that I feel good about this, but I’m glad that I can say the opposite. When I arrived here, I was determined to live honestly and fruitfully, and I’ve been doing so. Everyone who meets me builds a genuine opinion of me, maybe too blunt, too vulgar, too outrageous, kinda funny, not that pretty, but generally speaking, an honest kind of person. I can live with that. But him? He’s not even close to such an achievement.
The last time we spoke, nearly a year ago, about our relationship, he said, “maybe if we’re in the same place at the same time, we can try again.”
So fucking vague.
Then again, a few days ago he mentioned coming to Korea but that he was with some Chinese girl now. “We should keep talking and we’ll see where life goes.”
FUCKING VAGUE AGAIN.
Some things really never change.

I digress.
I’m thankful for Brilliance.

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