The Blue Orchid Years

What's Worth Living For? (Prologue)

Dissecting Our Memories (Looking for Hope 2)

Prologue: What's Worth Living For?

Author's remark: this novel is written in a mix of flashbacks and letters. Pay attention to the time stamps as you read so that there is no confusion about when each scene happens/happened.

Voice recording date: February 15th 2664

Hi whoever is listening, it's still me, Nardho. Yesterday was Valentine's Day and it is now three in the morning. I have been awake for hours because my mind is torturing me like always. Do you know that feeling when you are too tired to fight but too scared to quit? That feeling is something I am familiar with and I thought I already had it under control at eighteen when I woke up from a coma after my lung transplant surgery, but clearly I was mistaken.

Yesterday Neesa came by to check on how Moira and I were doing. She brought homemade blueberry cheesecake, one of Moira's favorite desserts. I never have sweet tooth, but Neesa had her heart in the right place and it had been a while since either my wife or I had any visitor, so I welcomed the company. Moira was aware of Neesa's presence, to my relief. When one is affected by a disease that slowly yet surely breaks down one's brain cells, it is hard to know when one would get moments of clarity and lucidity among moments of confusion and anxiety. I listened as the two women chatted about Neesa's growing business, a famous bakery frequented by A-list celebrities and praised by food critics. That cousin of Moira's is awesome and it still makes me wonder to this day how she balances her commitment to the bakery with her monthly visit to our house—she has assistants, sure, but that doesn't take away the fact that she is hustling. I am glad that with everything going on in her life she still makes time for us.

Nothing was out of the ordinary until I heard Moira whispered fearfully to Neesa: "There is a stranger in the room with us!" and I tried my hardest not to react because I knew she did not mean to hurt me—it is her brain playing tricks on her. Neesa comforted her by saying that I was harmless and that I was a friend. That apparently calmed Moira a bit and she did not seem to be afraid of me anymore for the rest of the day, but I wonder if she really believed she is safe with me or if she felt safe because Neesa had reassured her. Maybe I am overthinking this.

My twin sister Nardhia gave me a call a few hours later and she could tell I was not okay. Ever since we were little, I could never hide my real emotions from her—she had a way of finding out. I can't quote her verbatim but basically she asked if I have any thought of ending my life. Standard mental health question, am I right? There was no point in lying, so I gave her my answer and she responded like this: "Dho, your life is yours but a lot of people have sacrificed theirs so that you can live. Our mom raised us on her own and do you think she is going to appreciate hearing that her son does not want to keep on living? Also, your lungs belonged to Lee and do you think he is gonna be happy if he knows you are thinking of giving up?"

That guilt-tripping method is classic Nardhia and it did shut me up quickly but it did nothing to provide me any consolation. My wife is fading, Dhia! If the same thing happens to Tony, do you think you would still have the will to carry on with a smile plastered and optimism unsullied?

I had thought of calling Johan but that dear older brother of mine would just lecture me endlessly about having faith, trusting in God's plan, and being patient. He does not mean to belittle my struggle, I understand that, but his quoting the Bible isn't what I need this week or any week. So I called his husband instead and in hindsight it was probably what kept me here, making voice notes. If it weren't for Kenta, I would probably have been a goner and sinning against Moira.

Our conversation was short and I do not remember much of it, but some sentences in particular stayed with me: "Nardho, you need to give yourself a break. Forgive yourself for being exhausted. Forgive yourself for your anger. Just forgive. You love her and love is always enough to grant you forgiveness. Don't go. She loves you too even if her love is difficult to see nowadays. You taking care of her is enough. No one can deny that you've done what you can."

I do not know how to apologize to myself. I am never good at apologies. What I am good at is replaying my past. Our past. If I can't be happy in my present, at least I can find happiness in my past. Of course, a wise wizard from centuries ago once reminded us not to dwell on our dreams, but what if my dreams—literal ones I see in my sleep—are the only things keeping me sane?

I need help...

[Nardho's voice breaks and muffled sound of his crying gets softer until it abruptly stops]