Hey Foe,

Khao Sok Thailand

Hey Foe,

I feel you when it's raining. 

The downpour has two emotional effects on me - it leads me to thoughts of either inspiration or melancholy. Of course, you always know the perfect time to come into the scene. You're too smart to figure it out. I wish you were more observant, though. You don't notice the way I frown every time you knock on the door.

I wouldn't say I like the way you look in my imagination. I feel downtrodden by your enormous build. Your unkempt, curly hair distracts me, your big, expressive eyes make me think I'm boring, and the black mole above your right eyebrow reminds me of Janet Napoles. You certainly have an annoying way of pointing your index finger to me to assert your dominance. 

I try to remember our conversations at midnight. Plenty of differing opinions. One time, I reckoned the woman with an orange bag may have a vibrant personality; you thought she just wanted to grab attention. I praised Filipino resiliency when their streets were inundated; you felt it was just a cover-up of the government's corruption and irresponsibility. Once you argued hair rebonding adds up to pollution; I insisted there's nothing wrong with this type of hair love once a year.

I often wish I could wish you were more empathetic, but I can't. I can't. I need you as much as the driver needs the brakes. You remind me of life's imperfections when idealism gets hold of me. You strike me when I float up there and show me the danger of a great fall. You point out that I can't nest in a happy bubble all the time. You are the devil's advocate that keeps my balance.

Every time you appear at the front door, I convince myself that you are visiting me for a reason. So I let you stay until I let you go away. 

Sometimes grateful, 

Ally

Written on November 11, 2013. Heavily edited on publish date.