Saint Valentine’s Eve

February thirteenth
Saint Valentine’s Eve
Dad told you 
If you crossed your legs
You’d have a 
Valentine’s Day baby
And you were not amused.

I pick a quail egg 
From the salad bar
For old time’s sake.
I remember as a child
I would sometimes pick them
Accidentally
Instead of mozzarella balls
And you would make me eat them.

I never wanted to eat them.
It’s not that they tasted bad.
They were just so small 
And helpless
And it felt cruel 
To chew through 
Their fragility
And swallow them down.

I’m sitting down
With my best friend
The one I used to date.
I remember wondering 
When we dated 
Whether you 
Would have approved.

My friend is half and half 
Like me
Half Chinese, half White
I used to joke 
That if we ever had children 
They’d be half and half 
Like us.
And people would ask them
Which one of their parents
Were Asian
And they’d say both.
It would be so confusing.

Sometimes on rare occasions 
I go to her parents’ house again 
And get a hit of my dead heritage
Her father will be eating durian candy
Which is a mistake 
Because no one should ever eat durian
It smells like stinky socks
And tastes only marginally better 
Until the aftertaste hits you
At least
Because the aftertaste is even worse
Than stinky socks.

I think of family sometimes
And how lucky my friend is
Because you are dead 
And Dad’s a six-hour drive away.
And because she has 
Her brother
And I have to put my family together
Like a million jigsaw pieces.

My family was never whole
Even when I thought it was 
It was just a lie
And treachery and betrayal
Laid buried underneath.

So I had to love my family
By halves
And keep accepting everything
And believing 
Believing if I loved them enough
That the yelling didn’t matter
That the children who complained
Were merely drama queens.

I watched as my family
Was halved and 
Halved again.
Fragmented.
And I told myself
That it was fine.
I told myself that we
Were happy
That we were all
Happy.

I was so blinded
By the sweetened lies
I wished to believe.

But all that is ancient history,
And this Valentine’s Eve
I’m focused 
On more superficial concerns
Like getting out of bed
And trying to forget the heartache
That rends me apart.

In my depression I thought
Of this place
This place
Here, where I can never 
Remember you unhappy.
And any day we came 
To this place
Was a good day.

And that’s a lot to say
Because you never were really happy.
I lost track of the number 
Of people on the phone
You yelled at.

I couldn’t count the number
Of times you were angry with me,
Couldn’t measure my annoyance
At how many times I told the 
Officer in twelfth grade
That I was nearly done with you
And that it didn’t make sense to 
Move me somewhere else.
I told him to leave me alone.

I did go somewhere else eventually
Escaped away to college
Only an hour from you 
But that was enough.
That first year was paradise.

For a short time
I lived in the university’s hotel.
They had free breakfast
And I was not an early riser
So I would stuff eggs or bacon
Pancakes or waffles
In a coffee cup
And then scooter off to class.

Things were mostly fine
Until you called me
And told me you were dying.
Things moved so fast
And before I knew it
The doctor had removed 
A forty-pound tumor
And tasked us with the burden
Of telling you the news.

I remember thinking
Surely that’s the doctor’s job
But mother, you were difficult
And it seems probable
That that is the reason
He pawned it off on us.

My only companion
Our neighbor nurse
 — The one who told you a million times
You looked unwell — 
She had tears in her eyes
And between her and me 
I figured it was 
My job.

But that day 
Is long since gone now.
Since then 
I’ve had new heartaches
And this day 
I want to cherish 
The few good memories 
We had.

I peel a piece of 
Pineapple
Off of the metal stake
At the churrascaria
And I remember how you used
To have them bring it out
Again and again
It was your favorite.

I eat the round bread
With the cheese inside
The fried bananas 
The lobster soup
I look at the ring
I found in your things
A blue sapphire
Adorned by
A golden lattice
I wear it every day.

I think about the time 
You emailed 
Everyone I knew
Panicked about where I was
Because I didn’t 
Call you for a day.
I just wanted a break
From all the chaos.

I think about 
The time
We had a fight
And you kicked me out
Onto the La-Z-Boy
You kept
For some reason 
On the porch.
There was snow
But you tossed out an 
Electric blanket.
I had a Yearbook deadline
But I wrote to the teacher
Because I wasn’t going to 
Sleep outside
And take care of 
That blasted
Yearbook deadline.

But I also think about
How no one is ever going 
To care about me
As much as you
Ever again
Because I was your 
Everything
Your only lasting
Goal.

And that’s a good thing
Because I can’t be anyone’s
Everything.
It’s too exhausting
Too much pressure.
I need people to have lives
Outside of me.

I picked the quail egg
To honor your memory
I open my mouth
And brace myself for
The taste
And then remembering,
I spit it out again.
I’ve forgotten I’ve
Spontaneously developed
An allergy to eggs.