SurFace

SurFace
Somebody about Something
She said: you look as if you are ill or ill at ease, and I must say often pale in the face. In addition I feel there is some change in you; maybe you are afraid of something. Then she started to rationalise: You really have no reason you see you are a bright student, handsome and as far as I can see your family has never been in financial difficulties. Your mother must be very lucky to have given birth to a son like you. Tell me is there something wrong or somebody annoying? I often see you alone. Why do you avoid ….? Cheer up. She was right I always forgot it. First I answered God forbid no but then I said reservedly without knowing what I was saying: actually I want to see somebody. She said: see somebody about what? Something, I answered with a lump in my throat. Sorry I don’t know it but I must do it. I mean even if I knew why should I tell her and second she was expecting too much for I had no idea what it was and I was really in need of help.

Something is bothering me but I don’t know what it is and I don’t know what happened. No, of course I don’t want to avoid them but I have to. Yet, if you ask me I know when and how it started. It started when I met him face to face for no evident reason. He was no special person to me, in fact quite ordinary. So why? I couldn’t believe my eyes. I went back to him to see if it was really me. But I failed again. However, I learned if there was something I had no word for I could at least try describing it. Well here is the description: I am conscious only of my face as if I am only a face without a body. I feel every little movement in my face muscles. It doesn’t go blue, green or red. No, it usually turns pale but sometimes I think I have always been yellow pale. The colour sometimes changes to a light brown. My eyes sink. I am unable to smile let alone laugh. Not that I don’t want to but it is stressful and I feel muscle pain. My lips are dry then. You might think it is a kind of shyness typical of introvert people. No I am rather self-confident and I have always showed my true face. At least this is how I feel.

My obsession with my face and other people’s grew to the point I became all face without keeping or putting a smile. I was brought up not to lose but save face. It seemed as if I had to face a charge or my past. So I often felt like hiding my face or going to a masquerade. Still what attracted me was their face not their body. I yearned for their beautiful eyes but I also feared them most. How can something be beautiful in some but brutal in others? Nay, some of them are unbearable they keep looking at me and I whisper: I don’t mind, you can go on looking as long as you want. Inwardly I suffered.

There was no hope for me to find out what it was and I found no word for it. How can I then go to somebody and say: I am suffering from something? Please help me. Finally one late evening when I was alone I found a name for it. I began to cry of pain, to cry for help till the small hours of the morning. Then I cried myself to sleep when I realised it was too late for help.
Jamshid
Bremen, 12 May 2007

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