Hana

I do not, as a general principle, ascribe to fate or destiny as valid notions that are worth examining or as principles to which you, any reasonable person, can attribute cause.  Fate, as described is a random occurrence to which we attribute those things we are unable to understand.  Destiny, albeit the final destiny to which all things are condemned, is well within the power of the individual to materialize.  My destiny, I always believed, is up to me.  I do what I must in order to reach the goals I set.

On the conscious level, I wholeheartedly believe in the statement I made, yet at times I cannot escape the intuitive feeling that there is an invisible and inexplicable force that has been present in the shadows of my life which has guided all events to squarely place me in the exact position in which I find myself.  A position I did not plan and did not seek.  All actions I have taken seem to have led, with a certain amount of futility, to a present I did not intend.  Was that fate at play that made me fail in guiding my own life to my current position which is radically different from the one I envisioned in the prime of my youth?  If so, then I am at a loss in trying to explain what fate held for me so far and what it might hold for me in the years to come.

Hana was a free-spirited girl who I met late in my teens in a particularly slow school elevator.  She stood behind me with one of her girl-friend and, unknowingly, was excitedly chatting with her friend in my native tongue.  The topic of discussion was me.  Hana was detailing, with a certain amount of vulgarity, all that she would have me do if she had me to herself.  They were giggling behind me and I was smiling as I enjoyed the unavoidable eavesdropping.  When the elevator stopped, they dismounted, and I said something or another to Hana in my native language as the door closed.  Through the elevator door I could hear the loud laughter that ensued outside and could only imagine blushing yet laughing girls outside.

Later that afternoon, I had gone to a cafeteria in the building to eat my lunch and read a little.  As I sat at my table reading my book, Hana walked into the room.  I suspected she would try to avoid me after the earlier slightly embarrassing incident in the elevator.  I bent my head towards my book to create the impression that I had not noticed her but with my eyes firmly fixed, albeit indirectly, on her.  Anxiety started to overtake me as she started towards me among the scattering of chairs and tables lining an irregular path between her and me.  Hana stood at under five feet tall and I was never more terrified in my life.  She walked slowly with a purpose, her steps undulating, her head slightly bent towards her side, eyes filled with a brilliant shine and her thick curly brown hair growing larger as she approached.  I had not realized how beautiful she was in our earlier encounter but as she approached, her beauty crystallized, and I could not believe that such a creature would have expressed an interest in me.  She put me somewhat at ease when she started to smile a few feet before she reached my table.  A genuine smile showing the small pearls she had for teeth and surrounded by luscious rose-colored lips.  Her black eyes sparkling like a midnight desert star and all surrounded by marble-white skin that gave no hint of any blemishes.  An all-natural beauty who was smiling and walking slowly but with no hesitation, as if in a dance, towards me.

She slid in the chair to my left and introduced herself.  Asked me my name and I answered.  After a rapid succession of questions establishing the facts of each other’s life, we established a basis of a relationship that developed in the span of ten minutes and concluded a few hours later with the exchange of phone numbers and a promise to meet the next day at breakfast in the same location.  The ten minutes that were the start of an eight-year turbulent relationship that is to come to light later but for the moment it was the start of a friendship.

The friendship lasted for a few months in which I got to know one of the most wonderful people to have walked into my life in the most peculiarly random accident.  A carefree friend who held no judgments and no expectations.   She simply wanted to enjoy the time we spent together, and I felt completely at ease with her.  We both sought each other at school, and we were together most of the days.  One day I went to school as usual and waited for Hana to come but she did not.  She missed the following day and the third.  I called but the phone number she had given me, and which I had dialed many times before, was no longer in service.  I was worried for a short time, but I was always a person who attached strongly to everything but found detaching easy.  I did not have the resources at the time to try and investigate what may have happened to her and there was nothing I could do about it, so I stopped thinking about it and moved on with my life.  There were more important things to worry about.

A couple of years had passed, and I had changed schools to pursue my studies more rigorously.  At the new school I had a new life with new friends and newer experiences.  One day, as I was seated chatting with some friends, someone hugged me from behind.  I could see the surprise on my friends faces at the person behind me who I could not see.  I did feel the thick, lush hair falling on my face, the warm lips descended on my cheeks for a kiss and an extremely familiar smell the origins of which I could not recall at that moment. I held and kissed the hands that were wrapped around me as I stood from my chair and turned around only to be surprised with the beautiful yet familiar face.  Hana Stood in front of me now with a big smile on her face, her hair as curly as ever, her head slightly bent to the left, but for some reason, the brilliance seems to have left her eyes.  We talked, we laughed, we reminisced, and the friendship was re-established as quickly as it was lost.

The friendship quickly evolved into a more nuanced and intimate relationship which pleased me to a certain extent until those moments when she would go into a rage.  Mostly, she would be enraged by my inability to be angry with her and my unwillingness to control her. 

“I went to court today for the ticket I told you about” she once told me. 

“How did it go?” I asked. 

“Fine, there was this really handsome guy there and he talked to me, he was so funny.”

 “That’s nice.  At least you were not bored.”

 “He took my number and said he will call me to take me out to dinner.”

“And?”

“and I’m thinking about going.”

“Ok.  Good.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?  You would let me go have dinner with another man?  Don’t you have any feelings for me?  Don’t you love me?”

“Of course, I love you, otherwise I would never be with you.”

“Then why can’t you yell at me?  Why can’t you say that you don’t want me to go?  That you forbid it?”

“Because I can’t forbid it.  If you want to be with someone else, I cannot stop you, I do not want to stop you.  I would never want to be with someone who does not want to be with me of their own free will.”

“Can you show me some emotion when I tell you that I’m considering going on a date with another man.  He probably will want to kiss me at the end of the night.  Doesn’t that bother you?  At least show me that you’re a little upset at the notion that I might be kissing another man.”

“I love you and I will be hurt if you kiss someone else, but I will never be mad about choices you make for yourself.  My hurt feelings will be my own and I will deal with them. If you decide to go, I hope you will tell him that you are in a committed relationship, which you should have told him when you met him”

“You’re so confusing.  I don’t know if I love you or I just feel pity for you.”

After a few exchanges of that nature we would break up.  We would stay away from each other for a few days, and at times for a couple of weeks.  Then I would call her or arrange for a random encounter in places where I know she would be; nonchalantly ask how she’s doing and if she wants to do something together.  She always said yes.  The relationship resumed with no mention or resolution of the breakup; that is, until the next breakup.  This continued for some eight years.

Everything seems to be falling in place in my life.  Not necessarily how I had imagined it ten years earlier, but the progress is satisfactory nonetheless.  I am out with Hana for one of the best evenings we had spent together in a very long time.  We had spent the day together then went home, changed clothes for the evening and met up again for dinner which was extremely peasant and followed that with drinks and some of the most amazingly relaxed conversations we have had since that day we met in the school’s cafeteria.  That whole day I had the indelible feeling that she must be a part of my plan, she must be worked in on a more permanent and secure basis.  At the end of the night I held her tightly with her head leaning against my chest, my arm wrapped tightly around her, and my face buried in her thick, perfumed hair.  I lifted her chin with my free arm and looked into her eyes.  I could see that brilliance in her eyes once again, I gently whispered “Will you marry me?”  The answer came back quickly with no hesitation “No” there was no fear, no love, no hate in the sound.  There was no emotion of any kind.  It was just a simple NO. A reflection of what she had known for what appears to be many years now.  That we did not belong together.  With that same simplicity and just as unhesitatingly I responded, “Call me if you change your mind” and we each went to our respective homes.  The call never came, and I never saw Hana again.

Years later, I was told that Hana had died in a car accident.  I did not believe it, so I looked it up.  There it is, a car accident at an intersection Hana and I crossed many times.  An intersection where, every time we were forced to sop by the red light, we kissed.  The woman I never knew if I truly loved and never knew if she truly loved me was gone and I can no longer hang on to the hope that she might call me one day; that I might accidentally see her somewhere someday and we may resume that relationship to its more satisfactory conclusion.  That news snippet flooded me with the plaintive echo of my last words to Hana.  I read the brief statement of the accident again a few minutes later, then a few hours later and the next day and the day after.  Each time, hoping that I will see some other piece of information that will prove that is was not the Hana I knew.  Maybe some other Hana with the same last name had died that night and the chance that I will see Hana again did not die.  Each time I looked the article just confirmed it was the Hana I once knew.

Did she say NO to my proposal of her own free will or was she compelled to refuse me by some force that was determined to protect me from the future she would have represented and that I will never know.  Given the history we had established together, the YES would have been the more expected answer.  Would she be alive today if she had said YES to me?  Had she agreed to marry me, I would have never met the woman that did become my wife and all the sequence of events that followed.  Had she agreed to the marriage proposal, would I have died in that same car accident.  That simple binary choice was presented to her and both our lives would have followed a completely different paths based on a simple YES/NO choice.

I continue to believe that my destiny is determined by the choices I make in my life but now I added the proposition that it also depends on the choices made by others as I bring them in my life.  Maybe fate is not the random representation of things we don’t quite comprehend.  Maybe it is the result of the combination of uncoordinated choices made by us and those who we integrate into our lives.  I always accepted the consequences of my own choices.  Now, I must be willing to accept the consequences of the choices made by the people I choose to make a part of me.