07_Memories of Sunshine

That night, after sobering up, showering and crawling into bed– I found myself thinking about Hamu.

But not just Hamu the person, no, no. I wanted to understand the flutter I felt when I read his messages. The way my heart lurched while he was still typing.

I wanted– no, needed to know where it came from. I needed to know if it meant something, if it meant anything. If that was all it took to win me over.

I wanted to know if Hamu wanted me. And if I wanted him too.

It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To be wanted by someone like Hamu. Hamu was well-loved, cared for everyone, sunshine incarnate. But he was a friend to all, but also a friend to none.

So I scrolled back to the beginning of our messages, wanting to pinpoint when the friendship began, and understand if I was in love with Hamu, or if it was just the alcohol talking.

I remember it was around Christmas last year when I was drunk and alone in my own room, pining for a boy who did not want me. I received an unexpected message from a name I’d seen around but never interacted with. Hamu.

Hamu: hello friend

Hamu was a distant friend of Will, the boy I really liked. I’d seen him around but never interacted with him. Why? I had no reason to, not really. He has sent messages into public discourses and sometimes invites me to games without explanations. I didn’t see the point of interacting or replying to him. Until now.

Miyu: hi

Drinking has always made me behave erratically– with my inhibitions lowered, I always surprised myself with the things I did and said. Do I mean what I say and do more when I drink or when I don’t? Does drinking make one more or less honest? I was always on the side of it making me more honest since I’d said things that I’d never on a day-to-day basis.

But some of the things I say are so outlandish I would never want to repeat them sober.

Hamu: care to join us for a game?

Miyu: only if will comes

There was no hesitation. I was singlemindedly chasing after Will and I didn’t care who saw or what happened. As long as Will was there, that was all I cared about. I wanted to hear his voice, read his stupid comments, share the same digital space with him just to feel that little bit closer.

Hamu invited me into the game lobby and the voice call and low-and-behold, Will somehow miraculously showed up. I continued drinking in hopes that I would find the courage to say something, anything to Will. But all I did that night was drink myself into a stupor and type nonsensically into any text box I could get my hands on– mostly Hamu’s. Apparently drunk me was not stupid enough to bother Will, maybe I did have some shame after all.

I stayed in bed for most of the following day, nursing my hangover by drifting in and out of sleep and scrolling endlessly through social media. The only times I got out of bed during the day was to refill my water bottle or go to the bathroom. When evening rolled in– my younger brother, Jin came in to tell me dinner was ready.

“Miyu– it’s dinner time.” Jin called just outside the door before he walked into my lair. The room was completely dark, only lit by the street lights outside.

“Are you still in bed? At 7:00pm? Did you do anything today?” I could picture his disapproval; I knew that just because it was the holidays, there was no reason to waste the day away. But without work, what was there to do?

I grumbled under the covers, “I’ll be down in a second.”

Family dinners were for catching up with and criticising each other and as I sat down, I could see everyone trying to hold their tongue.

My brother was the first to crack. “You look terrible,” he said, eyeing my dishevelled appearance.

“Thanks.” I didn’t even look at him while I replied– what was I going to do? Get changed to please people?

“This is what happens when you don’t sleep–” my mother chimed in, “you look terrible and you kept me awake last night with your talking and banging. What were you doing up there?”

Fighting my inner demons with alcohol, or maybe letting my inner demons out with alcohol…

What’s the difference?

Who knows– fuck it, next question.

“Nothing, just hanging out with friends,” my response was nonchalant, “and sorry– I’ll try to be quieter next time.”

“Always next time– never this time. You really have no consideration for anyone else, do you?” fired my mother.

“Dinner time is for eating, not for arguing,” grumbled my father and that was the end of the conversation. Riveting interactions; I thought to myself, if I ever write a book– I would be sure to include all of these small interactions.

I sulked back into my room after, still refusing to switch the lights on. I checked my phone and Hamu had sent a rolling hamster gif as a conversation starter. How charming.

Hamu: :BIGHAMU:

Miyu: cute

Hamu: lol thx

how r u feeling?

Just above this new conversation, I could see the myriad of messages I had sent Hamu last night in my drunken haze, either gushing about Will or how sorry I was for messaging drunk. God I really don’t know how to keep my mouth shut do I? Or spell apparently.

Miyu: stupid and hungover

sorry for spamming you with so many messages about will

Hamu: its alright friend

dont be sorry

It doesn’t change how i see you

or will

ur both my friends in the end

It;s good to get things off your chest

Miyu: me and will don’t speak anymore

it’s kinda mortifying to invite him drunk

i am the worst sort of person

Hamu: nah will isn’t the sort of person to care

Miyu: he should

Hamu: lol dont worry about it

will is a good guy

he wouldnt care or get mad

I wondered if that was true, I am pretty sure my affections for Will was what made him uncomfortable. Or maybe it was the fact that I was dating Dex at the time, Will’s best friend that made everything worse. Who knows, at this point– no one could talk to anyone. Not me and Dex, not Dex and Will, nor me and Will. I broke a friendship apart because I couldn’t keep my feelings to myself. Nor my hands off the bottle. Or my stupid big mouth shut.

I wonder what Hamu would say if he knew what sort of person you were?

He should know what sort of person I am.

Miyu: hamu- do you know dex?

Hamu: uh… no

Miyu: dex said you were will’s csgo friend?

CSGO referring to Counter Strike: Global Offensive. A first person shooter that I had absolutely no interest in.

Hamu: oh lol

i guess i have played with will before

no i mostly play with caleb and my other irl friends

but no i know about the whole dex and will thing

u told me quite a lot last night drunk

My heart sank. Drunk me wasn’t just a keyboard menace apparently, she was also a blabber mouth.

Hamu: but its okay

i’m sure you and will will talk again

brb boys are calling

it’ll be fine

promise

Miyu: hamu

Hamu: ye?

Miyu: thank you for staying with me the other night

Hamu: no worries buddy

anytime

We spoke often following that; mundane conversations surrounding our work and interests but also personal and sometimes moderately philosophical and existential ones. Hamu didn’t always keep up but I could tell he was trying to remain engaged.

Over the last year, Hamu has remained a constant presence throughout my life. There are good morning texts and good night texts. Routine check ins and updates during the day, ‘have a nice day’ messages and pictures of small animals because he knew I liked them.

I wasn’t sure when it happened but I woke up one day and Hamu was an integral part of my life without me knowing it.

In the present day, I narrowed my eyes at my phone screen in the dark– why did everything have to be so bright?

Miyu: i care you too

I stared at my last message, trying to work out what my intentions are. It has been a good 45 minutes since I sent that and I have just been lying here reminiscing my whole friendship with Hamu. I sent those sorts of messages to everyone all the time: lots of ‘I care you too’, ‘I love youuu’ with lots of extra ‘u’s for emphasis. I never felt very much when sending them but people seemed to like the response. It always felt appropriate, needed– and I enjoyed sending them if it meant making the other person happy even if I didn’t particularly feel anything. Maybe that was my problem; I could never tell if I meant anything I said or not.

But I felt a slight flutter did I not? I pulled the sheets over my head. I enjoyed flirting with the idea that I could be in love with Hamu; that would be nice wouldn’t it? Hamu was lovely even if he wasn’t always the most engaged person. He was well-liked within our social groups and I often enjoyed watching him interact with everyone. Whenever we were in voice calls together, I found myself admiring him– he was just so sunny, so cheerful and so carefree; what was there not to like?

I searched for another random date within conversations and started reading again.

Miyu: hamu- what’s your real name?

Hamu: sonny

sonny vu

lol

Sonny, even his name radiates sunshine.

Hamu: what bout u?

Miyu: miyu chen

Hamu: so asian lol

but same

anything else u wanted to know about me?

There was a pause in the time stamps, how hard did I think for the next question or was I just busy? Who knows.

Miyu: favourite colour?

Hamu: blue

Miyu: any particular shade?

Hamu: lol uh

idk

never thought about it

send a colour for reference

I was surprised at the time, did people not think about specific colour shades? A colour reference sheet was sent, listing shades of blue from royal, powder, and baby to Prussian, teal and navy.

Miyu: between… egyptian and azure?

Hamu: 50/50

any guesses?

Miyu: egyptian

Hamu: lol no

azure

What trivial conversations, stupid but clearly, I was thoroughly amused. I continued scrolling;

Conversations spanned from being about favourite foods to best subjects in school. What do you do in your spare time? Where would you most like to see in the world? What are you most frightened of?

We both mutually asked questions, and the more I shared with Hamu, the more Hamu shared with me. Things we liked and disliked, our thoughts, secrets, fears… Everything and anything we could reach for– he seemed to want to know about me as much as I wanted to know about him.

It made me think: why did I tell Hamu so much, and equally, why did Hamu tell me so much? Judging from our chat logs, our friendship early on was born from my yearning for Will. There were at least 2 consistent weeks of me simply whining and complaining about Will and Hamu typing ‘lol’ while asking me how my day was. How did it even evolve to what it was today? What did Hamu even get out of speaking to me? I turned in my bed, disgusted at myself– confused as to why anyone would want to befriend me and engage in frivolous conversations with me. Who really cares about my day at work? Or whether I preferred summer or winter? Why would anyone sit there and listen to me whine about my relationship or lack of relationship with Will and Dex?

Exactly– idiot girl. But you always answer and you always ask back. Do you even care?

I thought back to Will and had to scroll to the bottom of my friend list to find him; we haven’t spoken in almost a year. Serves me right. I shook my head, how distasteful of me– thinking about Will having just decided I had ‘butterflies’ for Hamu. My stupidity has really gotten out of hand.

Idiot girl– at this point you would just love anyone wouldn’t you? Dex. Will. Hamu. Who’s next on the chopping block, hm? How about Josh? Remember him?

I shook the thoughts away and scrolled back towards the top, my eyes hovering over Dex’s name. We’d been speaking on-and-off since the whole travesty, discussing whether or not we should try to salvage the relationship yet again. My head throbbed and I wrinkled my nose as I tapped the chat open; it had been 3 days since I last spoke to Dex. Why did things always have to be so complicated? So stupid? How did I always manage to get myself into such a mess?

A notification.

Hamu: hey miyu

Miyu: what’s up hamu?

Hamu: i just wanted to tell you

u r best girl

don’t forget that

:BIGHAMU:

Another hamster roll emoji.

I waited for my heart to flutter again, now in bed, showered and completely sober. I waited. For that sweet rise in my stomach. Come on, feel something. Feel excited. Feel that same rush you did as when he said he cared about you. When you were drunk. I laid there in bed, under the covers, willing the feeling to come as I typed my response.

Miyu: aww

tyty

you are bestest boi also

But it never came. And as much as I wanted to know what sort of person I was– as much as I thought I was the sort of person to fall in love with Hamu.

I started to remember that no, that was definitely not the sort of person I was. I was the sort of person who felt nothing when typing sweet heartfelt messages. I was the sort of girl who got butterflies but did not understand them. Could not recreate them. And honestly, was a bit suspicious of them.

Of course not you idiot girl, you have no idea what it means to be in love… Do you?

No.

That’s why you ruin everything you touch. Look at Dex. Look at Will. And now you still have the audacity to think you could want.

It’s true.

I was the sort of person who destroyed relationships by just existing because I was pretty sure, I wasn’t able to feel anything.