Remembered Me

After months of struggling to call each other, we finally did. It took a while, it did. A lot of things happened. There was upset. I remembered that 2 am, too much coffee too late in the day, wide awake with not one out of a million ways to describe the distance in my heart. Or why I was tending to that distance, like stoking a fire. 

I convinced myself if it can happen once, it can happen again. It wouldn't matter. All the doors can slam shut at the same time and I'll be just fine. I've always been just fine with things ending.

This time was different.

When I finally let up and opened one of the doors a smidge to your undying knocking, you were there with teary eyes. Maybe it was the undying knocking. It must be. Or the way you spoke to me. I thought I had quit you, but you weren't quitting on me, even though it had seemed like you had. On multiple accounts, I had left confused and my heart poked, the same reasons.

So when I finally let up and opened up a smidge, I heard you say that,

you saw me in every Subaru, every green car, the one that picked you up from Charleston, WV, and dropped you back,

in gas stations and the car charging wires they sell for $15,

you saw us on the subway, giggling hard after our own comments, the ones that made other strangers who must've overheard smile a smidge,

in the attention to the timbre of others' voices when I said that conductor's voice was fucking hot and definitely in Charlie XCX's "party 4 u", because it was our anthem in your little white car,

the way someone would laugh with their head thrown back and the abundance of cheek and littling of eyes,

in the mention of Lasik or Ohio or Texas or marriage or pregnancy, 

in someone nerding out to League,

the slight mention of a boyfriend or two, in Taylor Swift's concert, a joke about Matty Healy's rat boyfriend vibe, Taylor's new album drop,

in public policy or my Mom's Facebook page for some of my pictures >-< or my blog and its earliest episodes,

"like a boyfriend" you said. "Like a boyfriend", I said,

you remembered me when you connected your Spotify to your Discord on purpose in case I'm online and can see what song you're listening to and I felt so silly and laughed into our Discord call, head back,

and you remembered me when you're back at Smith on your site visits, our Paradise Pond and the proof that they cut down the tree with the beloved swing, the way you'd leave your sneakers at my door years ago when you successfully snuck into my triple on the topmost floor of Haven house like a ghost and stayed the night in my sleeping bag or my bed after cheerleading practice, the same spot where you won the lottery and got us Taylor tickets,

the way I'd wave at you goodbye and adieu as your little self shrunk out into a night lightly snowing like a painting I saw for one last time and didn't know it, stolen from the Louvre,

when there's a club and people are dancing in it and we both remember when,

we were best friends.

I remember you too

in a peach High Noon, in Taylor's "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince" in its specific line "it's you and me, that's my whole world" to which we both cried like babies at the bar,

I remember you in plastic bags, when after my ex had called it quits and like a treasure, you visited me on Thanksgiving, and you saw all my plastic bags, my depression plastic bags, and you helped me roll each and every one and now I just have to roll them, every time,

I remember you in "party 4 u" because duh,

little white cars and whenever I see the "Premium" gas option,

when I'm in my civil engineering job and well, you're a civil engineer and you'd totally get drainage,

when it's Wednesday and it's our day, it's been that way for 2 years until it wasn't,

and well today is one of those days. A non-Wednesday. A Sunday. And we just finished playing League together and I feel hopeful again.

People come and people leave and people end things. And sometimes I end things. 

But this time, someone actually fought for me, even when I was slumping, even when I was lagging and wasn't there. There was no ego you upheld. No contract on your end. You did the rare thing.

No one's ever fought for me and for us like you did. I'm so used to people leaving and never coming back. I'm so used to never looking back too.

But this time was different. It simply was.

so it's september again

9/28/2025

playlist I wrote this to. and fuck it's AI generated. most likely. T__T

like a kid, the early morning 7 am air makes me feel like I must soon be on my way to school. There's that kiss of humidity in the air. Houston isn't remarkable but our mornings feel like a hug. Whereas Marietta was a swoosh through the legs, early morning cool winds and all my pores closing up, Houston is a hug from above and from behind. A warm, wet thing.

Jesus where am I going with this.

I'm a Virgo. It's my time of the year or even, my time of the month. T__T. Whichever it is, I am here.

I am 25.

The crazy thing is even if I wanted to, it didn't stop me from squirming in slight distress as I handed over my Discover credit card to pay for lunch between my new boss and I today. I really did want to pay for us. I admire him so much. Our first lunch with him as my boss. 

In a crazy middle-of-my-life kind of way, in a miraculous feat of undeterminable fate, in a quiet shout heard from across the yard, when I least expected it, when I hadn't the energy left in me to even plan after myself, when I was ready to fight for scraps, my head turned to the sound of a grungy voice. Someone who just lost their voice, who sounded tired but kind.

He's not at all how I imagined the second boss in my life to be like. A voice I can barely hear at times with the most thoughtful gestures. An extra plate of cheese and crackers for me every time. I barely hear him but he's there, a little old man.

But he's exactly how I needed my second boss to be like.

Kind. Safe. Gentle. Never angry. Perhaps too kind for his own good. Kind but never, ever blind. Never ever. He sees life as gray. "Straddling close to good, best I can."

I think about all the kinds of intelligences, and he has all of them. A little Chick-Fil-A ice cream in both our hands after each site visit. He is the SWEETEST SAFEST LITTLE MAN.

YOU CAN BRING YOUR CHILDREN HERE. BRING ALL OF EM.

I'm 25. I reconnected with my old nail salon customers. Grandma Karen!! The famous lady who sent me flowers when I was in Ohio. <3 She's got the biggest, bestest surprise for my mother's birthday. I can't wait to luncheon with her. <3 MY WHITE GRANDMA IRL?! donde estas?! Donde hoy. I think.

Her laugh on the phone meant so much to me. This instant familiarity. Another way that Houston hugs me.

The other way that Houston hugs me is in one of my favorite coffee shops. Seven Leaves on Bellaire, and my favorite drink there oh my god, the Sea Cream Jasmine. FUCK. I curse more.

Your Ohio girl became an Irish sailor.

Or maybe Ohio never left. Maybe it's the Ohio in me. But that coffee shop and studying across from Kim is just healing. Any coffee shop can be the Neilson library if I just let myself smile in it. Let myself derail from reviewing Construction Job Costing and look up Alaskan cruises, in time for the whales, the aurora borealis, when I turn 26 next year. Just in time then.

It's getting windier and I haven't really moved much. I know, technically, yes I have. Actually, I move all the time. At work, with family, with doggie, I'm always on my feet. There's always something to do. If I'm not cooking, I'm cleaning. Or washing dishes. Or mowing, washing dishes again, they always pile up. Or cooking something else that my father can actually eat. Or driving him out to the cheap gas station, where even before he speaks his broken English, the nice ladies know what he's looking for. Or spending half my Sundays chaffeuring him everywhere, gas in the tank. Or calling a friend while doing some of it, so I'm not alone.

Sometimes, I can feel so small and lost in the daily little things. My life has just begun here in Houston haha. Maybe the big difference now is that my time isn't my own anymore. I could afford that luxury to my heart's content in Ohio. Of course, I miss that. 

In Houston, I barely catch my breath. I'm just glad I have great friends in town who feel like a hug, when I see them. When I can afford to. 

My sweet friends from Ohio check in on me. Austin, Jana, Elizabeth, even Gina  Houser haha. They are so, so sweet, and appreciate that there are things I do have now. I won't take for granted family ever again. It's been almost 2 months back home, and it's been wholesome. But...it's not sustainable to be in this mindset that I can continue to please everyone, every second of the day. 

To please my Mom best I can, even as her sum of worries infects me. I do my best to cheer her on. She's so kind and there are things she doesn't know and none of it is her fault. I just, can only sit there and take so much of a monologue of bad news for an hour. Before I hear it as my own voice after.

I can only drive my father around so much. If he could have it, he'd happily absorb every minute and every dollar out of my pocket to take him to the far West edges of Houston and buy him all the spontaneous things he could get. Any refusal to any small trip, he holds onto like a grudge, even as he looks solidly back at my exhausted face. Taking no account of. 

My boss is very kind. He told me kindly as I expressed how quickly I'm trying to catch up about the construction business. He quickly responded, "This isn't a race. This is a marathon. Take your time. You will learn in time. Everything will be okay."

I smiled back at him across our table at Schlotzky's. Which I love. One of my new favorite restaurants. THEIR DRINK OPTIONS ARE LIMITNESS, I FEEL LIKE ROYALTY AFRONT THEIR DRINK MACHINE. THERE'S EVEN BLUEBERRY DR. PEPPER?!?!!? IDKKKK

Being back in Houston, has felt like a sprint every day. I barely catch my breath at the end of it. I think of myself last. I can barely breathe. There are so many fires, every second of the day. There are so many hurricanes we are trying to prepare for, and the last thing I can even think of is myself. I am just reactive. I'm just trying to clear up the sink. 

I'm just trying to calm my mother's panic on the phone. I'm just trying to cajole my father that I can only take him to Walmart and the gas station, and can't bring him to any other places beyond that. I'm just trying to tidy up my room because I've forgotten to. I get home, and I barely have the energy to cook or exercise. My shoulders. My neck, my eyes. They're all sore. I'm just trying to make sure everyone has what they want. I just want you to have what you want. I spend so much of my time there, I forget what I want. And when I remember a sliver of what I had even wanted originally, it leaves me again. Are my dreams so fragile? Such fair-weather friends, these dreams of mine?

My face has this constant optimistic look on it all the time, because that's all I can be. The hurricanes will come, and I can barely clear out the tiny wildfires. My poor mum, when I was away and light about life in Ohio. 

Of course you lose your color in times like these. Or your hair, haha. Or my hair.

I like to do this thing at night, when I feel so small and the world is so quiet at 3 AM. I hug myself gently and whisper in my head, my own voice as if it were someone else's, "you are doing your very best. you are a very good bean."

That's all I'm trying to be lately. Trying to be a very good bean.

No one comforts you at the end of a difficult day. No one will recognize your efforts. I used to wait around for that. I used to want to be comforted by any voice at the end of the day. I used to want so badly, a pat on the back for a good job, an acknowledgement from someone I had probably already put on a pedestal, a supervisor, a boss haha. That would light me the heck up.

Now... well, lately, I just want to turn off my little bed lamp, wear a cute pajama set, and feel this absolute feeling, a light beam warm on the top of my head kind of feeling. I play my day back like a movie sometimes, with mistakes and the "OH, NGOC!"s and all, I admit in the dark: "you're all you have. and you made it. good job, little bean."

So today, like any day, like every day, is one of those days. These will be my forever days. This is what it means to be a Ngoc. Ngoc, the eldest daughter bean.

I hope I don't only live a day out to where it feels like I just have to make it to the end of it, in time to catch the purple in a sunset. I hope I don't run every second of each one either. I hope I live in a way that I have stamina for the many years to come, enough stamina for the great grandkids to have too. 

I don't want life to feel like a race or a marathon. 

I just want it to be a cruise, on the ocean, where dolphins join along, whales are seen blowing bubbles at night, every night, albatross land on and off the tip of my head, and the aurora borealis is just so near. Perhaps it's damn well above my head right now, kind of feeling. Lol. Bless.

You. Lots. rawr rawr