Chasing a Feeling
I woke up this morning to a familiar sinking feeling—it was all a dream. My disappointment was palpable, and all I wanted was to go back to that moment I was in a mere few seconds ago, now worlds away; the feeling was crushing. It seems like an overreaction to such a plain and ordinary dream. In it, I was copying Chinese characters on a board. When I couldn't see a character's strokes clearly, I asked lăo shī (teacher) for help, and she wrote the character out for me.
Lăo shī was my secondary school teacher when I was fourteen. In that year, Chinese was my favourite school subject,1 even when it had never been one that I particularly enjoyed. I diligently completed my homework, possibly working on it first before other subjects. I eagerly searched up the dictionary for the meaning of words and noted them down. I earnestly studied for tīng xiě (spelling and dictation) and wrote my zuò wén (compositions) to the best of my limited abilities.2
Listening to Ōu Dé Yáng's gū dān běi bàn qiú (Lonely North Hemisphere) during one of our first few lessons; going on an excursion to a memorial hall and walking right into a glass door, where she laughed, then rubbed my forehead affectionately; getting chosen by her to wrap zòng zi (rice dumplings) in a demonstration and utterly failing at it to the amusement of everyone; weekly basketball practices where she would oversee the drills (she was the teacher in charge); these are memories that I will cherish.
The wave of nostalgia hits hard today, perhaps exacerbated too by that time of the month. Upon awakening, I searched for lăo shī online. It seems like she is still teaching, if that is her that is listed on a school website. Somewhat on impulse, I sent an email to her school, hoping to get hold of her contact, uncertain of how anything would turn out. I once did something similar, but found myself embarrassed and regretful. I could tell from that person's response that the feeling was not mutual, and I felt silly for thinking it could have gone otherwise.
So why is it that I am, again, chasing a feeling? Maybe, just today, I am feeling a little lonely. After the school run, I meandered on my way home. I didn't want to go home right away, and yet, I had nowhere to go to. What exactly am I pining for? I think I am seeking for a lost connection, the feeling of kindness and affection, the shining moments lost in time, where I felt truly alive. I am aware that this, too, might end in disappointment. But for the possibility of a maybe, here I am still, chasing this feeling.
At fourteen, I also thoroughly enjoyed German lessons. The teacher I had then was a native-speaking German who was a little dirty-minded, but hilarious, and he made lessons so much fun. Unfortunately, my favourite subjects changed from year to year based on how good my teachers were and how interesting they made their lessons to be. At fifteen, my interest was in Chemistry and then at sixteen, it was Biology. It is only in hindsight with an ADHD diagnosis in adulthood that I realise how dopamine-seeking my brain was, and how it was no wonder that I was bored out of my mind and struggling to pay attention in many of my other classes.↩
I actually kept my Chinese textbooks, exercise books and worksheets from that year for ten over years after graduating from secondary school. It was only some years back that I finally let them go during one of my declutters, alongside my German books. I do feel some regret regarding this decision, though I know it was and still is a sensible choice.↩