[C] Retrospective

I’m not a good person. I’m not even a nice person. I’m rash and impulsive and short-tempered. I pick fights with people just because they tick me off in the moment. On top of that, I have a record. I’ve been to juvy. I am exactly the kind of person people tell their kids to stay away from. I was a trouble child, and that has stayed with me in adulthood. So I will never, ever understand why you chose to be with someone like me; I will never understand why you ever even wanted to be associated with me.

I have pushed you away, shoved you back, and kicked you out of my life more times that I can count. But you never left. You stayed back and waited patiently; you watched me and inched closer when I wasn’t looking; you barged in at the most inopportune times when I couldn’t find any strength to deter you. You wore me down, you wore me out, you wormed your way into my heart.

And now I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t imagine waking up one day and you not being there.

You’re not perfect. I am under no delusion that you are. You’re a manipulative little minx and a goody-two shoes. Everyone sees you as motherly and I can see why. Not just how. Not just because you do the housework or nag your friends or take care of your brother. I see why. And I want to help you through that.

That is why I secretly love it when you are selfish with me, why I can never be mad at you when you punish me for silly things with silly things, why I will always do as you ask even though I don’t want to. When you let yourself act this way around me, I can tell it is because you trust me enough to let yourself rely on me, even if it’s just a tiny bit. And each time I pull through, you know that you can rely on me more. And when you do, I rejoice.

“Nao...” a groggy voice disturbs my thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Binturongs. You promised.”

“Bin...what? What did I promise?”

You shift around a little so that you can prop yourself up on your elbows as you kept your gaze on me. “That you’d take me to go see them today.”

“What is it, exactly?” I ask as I retrieve my phone from the nightstand.

“A bearcat thing.”

I google ‘binturongs’ and find that they are not native to Japan. “I guess we can check out a zoo or something. Doesn’t say here where we can find them.”

“But... binturongs...” you pout.

Though sometimes, satisfying all your selfish wishes is really challenging.