Metaphorosis 2021 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781640762176
Amazon: B09NZ97Y7K
Publisher: Metaphorosis Publishing

I passed a park, walking from my kindergarten to my apartment, and a couple relaxing on a picnic blanket under a tree. The woman leaned close to the man, laughing, and I could not ever remember being so radiant. How are they doing it? What does it mean when she looks at his hands, what does it mean when he rolls up his sleeves, what is he doing to her that makes her beam like that? What does it feel like for both of them?

Was this how Poche felt living with humanity? I thought, Singot is better. Why articulate something to somebody else when you can just feel it together? It made sense why the Sinmai would be asexual.

Yet that thought disturbed me. It couldn’t be right.

I shut myself in my apartment and researched asexuality.

As I read articles, forums, papers, I felt myself draining into a deadly swallowing sea without bottom. My past felt empty, even as I questioned the emptiness, hoping something would answer back. I thought I had been in love before. A middle-school friend, a sleepover. The lights going out as if snatched away by the lightning storm that rolled in. As I groped for a light switch, I had found a hand. We screamed, then burst into laughter, grabbed again, and caught each other. We were as close as a pair of socks. I’d felt this time and again with others, believing that the urgent wanting (as I imagined sexual desire would feel) would come sometime for the right person. I wanted a light switch or a hand to hold. I tried to imagine sex, and couldn’t.

The websites I found emphasized that asexuality didn’t mean that you couldn’t give or feel love. Asexuality had little to do with the lack of communication. At least, the kind of communication Poche sought. Yet, asexuality felt important to abai and singot, and I couldn’t explain why.

I couldn’t wait for humanity to invent something that would allow us to singot. Poche was right; language would have to suffice. But the dictionaries wouldn’t be enough, because it wasn’t just the lack of words—what words we didn’t have could be invented. It was the lack of trust that someone else would understand you and be patient with you while you fumbled to explain yourself. But how could he learn patience when he didn’t have the time? How long could a Sinmai be abai until they died?

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