I am—


by arya dradjica on 2024-07-27

Those three words are so hard to say.

I remember the first time. My heart was pounding so hard, I couldn't hear her talking. I mumbled something about needing to tell her something important. I have no doubt she could hear the fear in my voice. I was looking down at my lap because I didn't want her to see the terror in my eyes too.

"I am—"

My voice failed me. I was barely audible anyway, but the last word—the really important one—didn't materialize at all. I'd played out the conversation in my head dozens of times, so why wasn't it working out loud?!

Right, I was panicking. I took another shaky breath. Then the words fell out.

In information theory, a message carries a lot of information if it is very unexpected. Something is informative because you learned something from it; because you had not known its contents already. Yet I was able to communicate something completely unexpected in just three words. I suppose my message was very efficient—or human language is very inefficient.

Most of my friends were surprised when I told them. It makes sense. I didn't know that expressing myself could be an enjoyable process, so I never tried to explore it. And once I suspected, I kept that part of me private so I could make a decision on my own. I don't need to anymore.

Some people remember the date when they realised. I never figured out how other people's brains could achieve that—remembering dates. I know which month it occurred in, and that's about it. I do remember what it felt like, though. The sigh as clarity sets in. I told myself it was a decision I could make, but in that moment, it stopped being a decision. It was something I had to do. To be.

In retrospect, the signs were always there. I knew there was something wrong, but I could never quite figure out what it was. I told myself that I was happy because I laughed a lot and I had fun. I didn't realise it was possible to get used to being sad. Sure, life isn't particularly enjoyable, but that's okay; I always have my work, and that is worth living for. I still find a lot of joy in what I do. I just didn't know I could be so damn happy.