Day 355

Brunei Blogger May Cho of The Mayden | reflection of 2015 red sweater choies

It is eleven on the morning of day three hundred and fifty five.

I stir in my cell, the bright-eyed, keen and utopian soul of a child rests soundly beside my body. She passed away when eighteen arrived and destroyed, when eighteen crushed the rose-tinted glasses and carried, like the slippery whisper of a final breath, the soft calm away.

I stare at four walls and count the things I have lost, the things that perished when the child was taken.


Brunei Blogger May Cho of The Mayden | reflection of 2015 red sweater choies
Brunei Blogger May Cho of The Mayden | reflection of 2015 red sweater choies
I lost my love to another whose heart sonorously beats to the churning, pulsating blood in my vessels. I did not drop nor did I discard it; it had simply slipped off -- a knitted cover for this odd, this quivering, this vigorous organ! -- and when I had spun around to collect it, it had been sitting in the arms of cookies and cream and caramel popcorn.

I lost my childhood to blood-bound dysfunctionality, a wind-knocking, spirit-breaking, faith-bruising punch that called for the ignorance to leave, the idealist to flee, the romanticist to scream.

I lost my reason to fear, the creeping, mirthless shadow not of another faceless being but the shadow of myself.

I lost my mind to hatred that strangled like a reptilian monster whose head is my own disembodied, whose fangs pierced and left marks eternal.

I lost my temper to my arrogance, a fool of a peasant dressed in robes disillusioned by the crown that belongs to the burgundy-wrapped.

I lost myself.

Brunei Blogger May Cho of The Mayden | reflection of 2015 red sweater choies
Brunei Blogger May Cho of The Mayden | reflection of 2015 red sweater choies


This year has been a year of self-discovery, the harshest year by far for the little, inexperienced me. I've fallen onto the knees of self-pity on this ride several times along, been floored by my blind ignorance and tumbled over as I took the wrong roads. I have lost along the way -- budding friendships and hope -- but in loss, I have also found.

I found self-forgiveness and inner peace; I found friendships that have been docked by the port for ages and I have set them asail, a grand adventure for our young and excited hearts; I found a capacity for unconditional trust in loved ones, the chain that holds all bonds together; I found ground in the face of unexpected reality; I found life above all.

As for the self that shattered when eighteen took over, I have found shards of her here and there and fitted them back like pieces of a puzzle back into me. I will never leave behind the eager little flame of an optimistic eight year old whose biggest fear was Santa not coming, but, like all things broken, even if I find all of her, she shall never be the same again, she shall never be whole again.

It does not matter, though, because at eighteen, I have also found another side of myself. A side I'm pretty proud of, a side that I've decided I like and I'd like to live with, a side I'd like to improve upon -- I've found the passion inside me, the writer inside me, the storyteller that is me. I found The Mayden.

Brunei Blogger May Cho of The Mayden | reflection of 2015 red sweater choies
Brunei Blogger May Cho of The Mayden | reflection of 2015 red sweater choies

I stand up and pace the space confined by four stone cold walls. My misty companion drifts awake and the air is soon filled with effervescent giggles and laughs.

 "Be at peace," she tells me and glided through the keyhole of the sole door in the cell. There is a click and a twist and the door cracks open, but she is gone.

I tread not on the grout lines on the floor -- for she used to tell me to never do so, "a near crime!" she once yelled  -- and peered through the door. There is a tunnel, dark and desolate, and I see a light at the end. It is a ten day walk.

I take the first step.

Listen: Sara Bareilles's She Used to Be Mine.


MAY X

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* ITEM HAS BEEN SENT TO ME BY CHOIES FOR PR PURPOSES
PHOTOS BY SHIAN LI CHIAM
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