three packages came in the post for me - something which surprised me - i wasn't expecting anything, other than von's separately-arrives-gift - which turned out to be a lovely large book - hannah hinchman's a trail through leaves - which is both about nature writing, and also about journalling - something von and i talk about much nowadays. there was a sweater i'd ordered. and then there was an amazon package - which surprised me because i didn't think my medea would come so quickly - i'd just ordered it a few days ago - but i put it aside to open later when i got back from class. so when i did open it i was even more surprised to find a gift-wrapped packet inside, what looks the right shape to be a cd. it couldn't be from the girls - they'd sent a delia's gift cert - and when i flipped the card open there was no name. but when i looked up at the message i felt a sudden clenching of the heart - i thought i knew who it was and i was stunned because it was the last person on earth i thought would send me a birthday present. i felt extreme panic too - because the name plunged me instantly in confusion and fear. i looked further in the bubble wrap for the invoice - and there it was - the name was there. kg had sent me something.

i haven't heard from him for a year now - we had parted on the worst of terms - for over half a year after that i was stumbling through my life blinded by shock and distrust and helplessness. i was sick often and most of the time i couldn't eat or sleep and when i did sleep i had nightmares and woke up sobbing. i skipped so many classes that the teachers were after me and my grades were slipping badly and they never truly recovered since. i was afraid to be alone but people exhausted me. the last time we talked - online, in august last year - it became a long teary angry fight filled with accusations and blunt refusals to accept blame and that was so destructive at the end of which we'd had to agree that he'll lead his own life and i'll lead mine, and if we ran into each other in orchard road we'll smile and say hello. so here was this birthday present and i don't know if i sensed it as a pact-breaking intrusion or the lifting of a shroud. too many thoughts came to mind. alarm at the start became a momentary feeling of goodwill - why he remembered and bothered - that was sweet - that was then edged out by a certain anger - did he think he could treat me the way he had, and then a year later hiho, happy birthday, doing alright there? it struck me as so callous i had a sudden thought of sending it back, and angry tears came to me. but then i thought too, no,he wasn't like that. kg can be absurdly obstinate or blind at times, but he is not conniving or malicious. it isn't an olive branch - that clearly isn't what it is - but mostly i think that if he sent something, he meant it in all sincerity. it's hard for me to imagine he would remember - most of the time i assume he is happy in whatever he is doing wherever he is now and didn't care whether i existed anymore - but he did remember and he did want to know how i was doing. and that was something.

. because the last year and a half of silence and hurt and disappointment and ruin had made his name something that i associated with fighting and anger and betrayal and pain - the thought of him brought all that to mind - that i still can't think of him without fear and anger and self-pity and to think - he ruined my life, he was a cruel horrible cowardly bad person - but that wasn't entirely fair or true either. it was a horrible, cruel, ugly and hateful end, but before that we had three and a half happy years together. maybe the first half year was very tough, and the last half year disastrous and ugly, but the middle years were happy and challenging and interesting and mutually dependent - they were years of a lot of fun and encouragement and talking. i loved him then, though i don't anymore, and maybe he did too. we both had to learn to compromise and at times it was tooth and claw and maybe lots of other times we grew, although ultimately he decided he wanted someone like himself. he taught me much about computers and music and graphic design and architecture - i wonder if he would be proud of me if he ever saw this - he didn't teach me any of this - and he was self-taught in so many things - and he did them so well too. i especially liked the musical education he gave me - he was always a great one for finding interesting music, and picking tracks he thought i would like and putting them on tape or cd for me. whe was onno and max and ada in one - he knew the theory and history and he had a ear and appreciation and he could play too. and maybe all those years the flowers and the silk ties and the books of poetry and the ordning and reda stationery and the corny joke presents i keep coming up with nothing was so right as what he'd sent now. and back then there was all the messy intense relationship stuff that made me want to throw up my hands all the time - but at the heart of it we were good friends - we enjoyed each other's company, we could go out and do things, watch a ballet - so much that i can hardly imagine going to the theatre with anyone else - and we talked so much then. i miss him sometimes. and so in hurting over the cruel things i have to remember not to turn him in to a complete monster - because he isn't.

the strangest thing is that i had a dream about us last night. we were lying side by side on a mat on the floor and talking calmly about the past and the future. there was no outrage or tears or anger or accusation, only ease and understanding and frankness, which i knew comes of the years together, and we could talk openly and objectively without anger or excessive emotion or blame about what went wrong and how we can be friendly again in the years ahead. and then the next morning i wake up to find a birthday gift from him in my mailbox. it was uncanny. maybe i'll call him and let him know i've received the cd and say thanks - but i don't even have his number anymore. i'm surprised he sent the parcel to this address - how could he be sure i was still living here? but then i suppose the university would have forwarded it. i should write him an email - the school one must be still valid - unless he transferred to a different school or something - and at least i hope he is not blocking my mails or anything. damn it, no matter how i think about it, i am not eager to write to him - though of course i must or it'll be rude - because even now, even to think about him is to stir up the hurt that i've put away and tried not to think about - and i don't want to deal with that on top of all the other things i've got to be unhappy about now. and i just know what yeen teck and von are going to say when they see this - they'll be furious i'm getting sentimental just when they thought i'd acquired some spine. they'll explain that it doesn't matter how good it used to be, that's the past, after what had happened, slashing claws is what he deserves. see - i know what they'll say and i can tell it to myself too. but then i am a hummingbird and not an elephant. elephants remember but hummingbirds need to be light.

i haven't listened to the cd he sent - am i ready yet? maybe not. not today. because in listening i would want to tell him what tracks i liked and why and how this or that reminds me or this or that other piece. because i would want to ask questions about the music, and be eager for him to do the max and onno thing - he used to write me commentaries on each of the tracks he chose. because i would be curious what other new music he is listening to these days and maybe i would want to send him something back in september. and then you see it will be as if he were back in my life and he is not and i don't know i want him to be. but maybe tomorrow i will listen to it. if not then, another day, and one day for sure i will, and when i do i bet it will be good too. and i will listen and be happy to have good music that he recommended and remember that we were happy once and one day, not now, but in many years, i know a day will come, when i will be ready to say - how would you like to have coffee together - and we will be able to talk face to face, the way we had in the dream, and then we can go on with our lives, with the things that have darkened our minds so long lifted. will we ever be good friends again. i doubt it very much. there's an awful lot of baggage and probably always will be - but one day we won't have to walk in fear and hatred and coldness and we'll be able to smile and say hello in orchard and mean it. one day his name won't instantly evoke the memories of all the ugliness and fury and fear. and somehow, though the initial ambivalence still remains, i think today i shall come down on the side of glad that he made a move.