I went in search of my dart set today.
My fellow teachers and I would play darts most nights, after we finished teaching and ate dinner. We’d meet up in Kyungsungdae (one of the college areas) where there were lots of restaurants and bars. One of my (our) friends owned a bar that we liked to go to all the time.
I wasn’t very good. But I played well enough that if the two better players fought it out, I could stay unnoticed until the end– and then catch them off guard with a few well aimed throws and end up on top (hehe). By the time they focused on me, it was too late.
I sang karaoke the other day with some friends.
A little while back, I sang karaoke with some friends. During the evening, I slipped round the back of the bar and found a couple of guys playing darts. They invited me to play with them. I had lost a lot of my acquired skills, but I realized I was better than when I’d first gotten to Korea.
So I looked for my darts. And I found them. It wasn’t just nice finding something I’d enjoyed. It was proof that I’d lived and worked in Korea.
I’ve been told that my life isn’t real before.
I’ve been told the children don’t really love me, or even like me. That they are, in contrast, terrified of me. When I tease them if I’m scary, they just laugh at me (Kitty? Scary? Kitty is a pushover who will do anything we ask, that’s what the munchkins think). But when they leave, I forget. I wonder.
An ex told me when she makes a commitment that it’s for life. That I was hers forever. But a month later, she’d ghosted me while informing anyone on the Internet that would listen that it was I who coerced her into the relationship. Only I had wanted it.
Because of my past, I question myself, my memories. Did it happen the way I thought it happened? Did I make it all up?
I’m not the greatest at memories. I forget things. I don’t save enough pictures. Sometimes my life feels like a dream.