Notes of a Crocodile

by Qiu Miaojin

By the same token, the part of me battling that attraction has been around even longer. It’s like taking a bucket of black dye and adding other colors to it, hoping to change black into a different color. You can try, but you’ll never succeed.

Shui Ling, you probably have no idea that I’ve spent the past eighteen months in full-on avoidance mode. I don’t know how else to go on. I’ve been throwing myself into busywork that surrounds me with people, then escaping into alcohol-induced numbness, among other diversions. It’s a cycle that helps me put one foot in front of the other. It’s not much comfort, but it’s all I have.

What a cruel joke. I left you, this woman, hoping I’d leave no trace of me, this monster, that our connection would disintegrate and be buried in the darkest recesses of your mind, that you’d cross back over to normality—get married, have kids—and live within the boundaries of ordinariness. All of recorded human history, at least, seems to support that basic formula for happiness.

When all is said and done, you and I aren’t quite cut from the same cloth. Society still considers you a normal woman. Your love for me was a feminine, maternal love that can just as easily be extended to any man. Basically, the only difference between you and other women is that your heart is more open. But me, our relationship left me fundamentally altered. You tore me open and exposed the man inside. That new me has no rightful place within humanity. I don’t think you’ve been cast out. You can still return to that place where I’m no longer allowed. I came back, but for what?

Tell me, is love—along with honesty, patience, and determination—strong enough? Is it?

These two girls matured into beautiful, loving women, each leaving her own messy trail of complicated relationships with men along the way. Though they never saw each other again, both remembered that the first person they had ever fallen in love with was a girl. Emotions may have been pure and genuine in their salad days, but even back then, they’d known that it would never work out. In the years that followed, each started to gravitate toward men, never again exhibiting an interest in women.

“What is there to be sorry about? It’s like leaving out the single stroke of a pen. All you have to do is change he to she, and it’s the same. Besides, after all the crazy shit that Tun Tun and I have done together, it’s hard for me to go around telling you what to do.”

“I love her too, and she treats me well. It’s a totally new relationship where I can practice the things you taught me. She’s always there for me. There’s no reason for me to hurt her. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about you. There’s no way I can imagine spending my life with you. You need to go out and find that person in life who’s going to love you!”

“Seriously, though, don’t die before me. If you did, I’d be even more bored than I already am. You have to go on living for me.” He solemnly placed his hand on my shoulder, his emotions genuine, and we bonded in a profound moment of mutual understanding. Then, he added, “Really, you should let me make love to you just once. It’ll be your birthday present.”

“You have to stop hurting yourself! You’re not okay at all!” He practically exploded. For the first time, I realized that he was in pain, that my tragedy had become his own. With that revelation, a hole was blown through the earth’s crust. That reckless lunatic felt sorry for me, and I truly loved him. Numb to my own feelings, I never saw it coming. Faraway sounds drifted toward us. The charade was over. It was no use.

“Tun Tun, I’ve been lost all these years. How come it never gets better for me? No matter how hard I try to improve my life, everything falls apart. There’s a saying: ‘By the time a man celebrates his creation, it has already half turned to dust.’ I always end up back at square one. This is a hateful, dog-eat-dog world.”