This Is Just The Way It Is
Do you know what it is like to wake up each morning and to go to bed each night with thoughts always there of Darling Pretty in Thailand? The daytimes are the same – she is always there in my mind and in my heart – and it doesn't matter what I do, there is just no way of turning those memories off. It's been like this for almost 9 years now. When I am at the keyboard, I wish I could put all the feelings I have for her down – and write them across the sky for her to see. Some say to me "Move on and find someone else" – but nobody can ever fill the space that she holds in my heart and thoughts.
A couple of times I have gone through the process of taking down all her photos off the walls and putting them away in a box, out of sight – but that doesn't last – and then I start to feel guilty for trying to shut her out. The reality is that is the last thing I want to do – and the photos go back up in less than a couple of weeks. I've done this a few times now and I realise that I really do want them on the walls. It's kind of comfortable feeling her around me – and, good Lord, I have so many images of her and me together in common places we shared, sitting on the hard drives of both operating systems and external storage. The truth is that most of the images are of her because she is suey and I am narkliat. Anyhow, that's what my former Thai wife often said about me many times – she said I was narkliat and she's probably right.
I didn't meet Darling Pretty until after my former Thai wife and I separated but, it's strange, I have similar feelings about my former Thai wife, even this long after the divorce – but not nearly as strong as the feelings I have for Darling Pretty, though. Sometimes I think of deleting all of those image files – but I know it would be like cutting out a part of me that I really could not live without.
Sometimes, with a few glasses of white wine, I open up all the images of Chiang Mai and look at each image so that the memories can flow over me – before I move on to the next image. Then, when that is finished, I go to the movie clips – and it's almost as if I'm there but it's not really the same – but it's the closest I can get right now. If I could dive into the jpg image or the mp4 video clip, I would – to be there again with her – or even in the places where she is no longer there. Her imprint on time would still be there and I could live with that.
Before my Thai wife and I divorced she would quite often play this song by pop group Jet – "Look What You've Done" – and it would make me quite sad to hear that but I could never understand why because she was the one who asked me to leave. Nobody asked me to leave Darling Pretty – but I had no choice, due to financial problems and health issues – it was always my intention to go back to her. I loved her very much then and I still love her just the same. But those lines in the song "Take my photo off the wall… If it just won't sing for you…" seem like it was something I should have said to Darling Pretty after I realised it would be quite a while before I could return to her – probably never permanently in this life.
Take my photo off the wall
If it just won't sing, for you
'Cause all that's left has gone away
And there's nothing there for you to prove
Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
Oh it seemed like such fun
Until you lose what you had won
The thing I have been trying to consolidate is an appreciation of the lack of logic and consideration used when dealing with somebody's life, like Darling Pretty – and, in hindsight, clarifying for myself the internal turmoil and reality of how easy it is to get lost in the magic of the moment, without really considering the effect this would have on a person who placed their trust in me – to be faced with it all coming undone and to be left holding the memories.
I wrote her a lengthy letter in Thai before I went back to her after the two-year absence – mainly because I find it easier to express complicated thought processes on a document – by explaining that I could not do the things I promised – like marrying with her and buying a house with her. In the letter, I suggested it may be better for her if she found someone who would be more supportive and able to give her the things she needed. Yes, I still wanted her – I loved her more than anyone in this life – but my priority was her welfare from then on. She took a long time to read that letter over a breakfast we shared – and then she folded it up neatly and handed it back to me. I asked her to please keep it as I wanted her to understand the way things were. She took it back and placed it inside her handbag.
Then there was her family to consider and the loss of face with neighbours and friends – as well as the monks at The Temple. The point being that one should never promise anything until there is absolutely no doubt that you can deliver the goods. Just like it has been said before by at least one regular contributor on Stick's site – "What right do Farang men have, to come to Thailand and engage in 'meaningful relationships' with the girls if they cannot fulfil the promises made and do the right thing"? I am guilty of that – even though not by intention. But that does not lessen the crime – the penalty is something I will carry until I die. Sometimes I do wish that would happen so that I can be free of that load – but more importantly, because I really do believe that Darling Pretty and I may be able to try again in the next life, if we are worthy. I will die before her, most likely, but I will wait for her. I pray that we meet in that life at a young age, when we can start life together and do things the correct way – meeting at the appropriate time, marrying and having a family together. I would try to be the best Sarmee she could ever imagine.
Until that time, I will wrestle with the temptation to go to be with her again each time I go back to Thailand – but I will be strong by knowing that is not considering her if I do that. All I want is for her to have the rest of her life in peace and happiness – because I will love her forever.
lae cha-rak rak-dta-lort-bpai
And will love – love forever