How lucky am I?
A poem to the friends who stayed and softened my fall
Sawadee ka fellow learn-it-all 👋
Greetings from a rainy, thundery, humid afternoon in Bangkok, Thailand 🇹🇭
I just speed walked home from my hojicha latte errand the fastest I’ve moved on my feet in weeks as the heavy rainfall warnings started. Why? I don’t mind getting wet, but my most expensive possession (my MacBook) in my non-waterproof tote gift from my mom, whose seams are unsewing, does not.
I just arrived in Thailand two days ago, back from Siem Reap, Cambodia. There were some complications with the travels and the prior plans because while I was in Phuket or Koh Phangan, I got bit by a mosquito, or a “mossie,” in the words of my Kiwi bunkmate Miro, that was carrying the dengue virus. This virus persisted within my body for seven days before I started to see signs of light come up from it.
I am on the mend thanks to the friends I have lived with the last eleven days. It was a joy to be with them. This letter is dedicated to them.
Now, let’s dive into letter 262 from a learn-it-all. Enjoy!
~~~
📜🖋 Poetry Corner
How lucky am I?
A poem to the friends who stayed and softened my fall
From the moment that I took my first breath as a babe, after being birthed into this earth, is the moment that began my lonely existence. To be human is to be alone. Lucky me. As much as I might try to change it, to be in the permanent presence of people is impossible. No matter the place, and would, after all, leave me feeling insane. Lucky me. While traveling around these past months, life is lonelier than usual. Even when I am around people, I feel misunderstood, never fully fitting into a box. An English teacher? A digital nomad? An expat? A tourist? Nope. Even before this, misunderstanding as my mother tongue, Confusion, the common cadence in connection. Lucky me. Then two friends enter the picture— they fly across oceans to see me. Life feels less heavy with them nearby: fewer choices to carry alone, more lightness, playfulness even. How lucky am I? Then a little bug flies into the picture too, flocking to my blood like a buffet, offering dengue in exchange. Lucky me. I toss and turn night after night, swirling between shivers and sweat. Moaning leaks out like steam from pain. No cure, just waiting, just blood drawn and lab results with platelets counted. My immune system takes the stage. Lucky me. But my friends, they stay. Logistics queens, filling in the gaps where I fall short. They hold puzzle pieces I don’t have. They carry me back to life when my soul flickers then fades, They brought back my light. They brought back my spirit. They spoon food into my stubborn mouth. They time the medicine. They drive. They wait. They run to 7/11. They don’t command— they witness. They accept the mess, My mess, And I begin to laugh again. How lucky am I? To have two someones stay— to choose you in your weakest moment, to cancel plans, to be soft, to see your scars and stay anyway. How lucky am I? I’ve been solo traveling. It’s been beautiful, but also soul-depleting, Like a soaked fuzzy blanket on my shoulders That used to be my star. I’ll keep going, but now I know— I’m not meant to go it alone always. Tears well up, not from the fear of the needle this time, but because love is what overflows. How lucky am I? Saying goodbye to close friends is a particular kind of heartbreak. But to have friends worth crying over? That’s its own kind of miracle. How lucky am I? 🩷
🎧Listening
Eleanor Rigby by The Beatles
Eleanor Rigby
Died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie
Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was savedAll the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?
🔍Word to define
dengue | ˈdeNGɡē | (also dengue fever)
(noun) a debilitating viral disease of the tropics, transmitted by mosquitoes, and causing sudden fever and acute pains in the joints.
Origin
early 19th century: from West Indian Spanish, from Kiswahili dinga (in full kidingapopo), influenced by Spanish dengue ‘fastidiousness’ (with reference to the dislike of movement by affected patients).
🌟Quote to inspire
“Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you.” —Carl Jung
📸Photo of the Week
🙏Shoutouts
to Emily and Carter Anne for bringing me back to life from the depths of my despair <3
I appreciate you reading this!
If ideas resonated, I’d love you to press the heart button, leave a comment, reply to this email, or reach me at vermetjl@gmail.com.
Keep on learning 😁
K̄ha bhuṇ ka 🌺 🌺
Jen
PS - in case you missed last week’s letter, I experimented with sharing my first fictional piece called The Smartphone Recall.
PPS- if you’d like to read my favorite letters, the best way to encourage my work is to buy my book on Amazon here.