Act 1
This is something I have wanted to tell for months. I had my therapist to consult, I might have lied that I’m fine after a few meetings. However, it still makes me crazy from time to time, I can’t pretend it.
I know a story, a cliché one. Apparently it has love, betrayal, a mistress, and everything we’ve known in the content. It’s also quite quiet, meaning no cries after great betrayal, no apology while realizing it’s all wrong, sure no happy ever after. And it’s a secret, as I’ve been told, I’m the only one who knows. Though it’s as boring as hell, I should have no reason to tell it. But ladies and gentlemen, if it’s that simple, I wouldn’t spend hours resenting myself, crying to God and complaining from bottom to the top. I would laugh and gossip nonstop. Maybe it’s karma, as I’m crazy about all those living dramas and giggling rounds and rounds. This time, it’s a big kick in my ass.
As an internet meme says, girl, we love watching drama, not living in one.
This time, I’m living in one.
Oops, not really living in this content actually, my dear, sorry no. I’m the sad third. Not being the main character, not leading the show, not even part of the story, I’m like a group of three but the other two decided they’re going solo, so I stood in the theatre as the only audience, watching them play. At the end, they’ve got their grand finale. But what about me? It doesn’t make sense that I was kicked out from the stage but still being forced to stay. Worst of all, stay in silence. I couldn’t talk about my feelings because not “everyone” knew I was there, there in the dark audience seat. I was kind of a role unfinished, therefore I was holding great anger, furious about everyone and that flame burned me into ashes.
If I couldn’t shout out loud then, why not break it here? So I’m writing now, writing the story from my point of view, my monologue, it’s not beautiful. It’s ugly but bloody truth.
Act 2
It’s a story about being chosen.
I acknowledged that I’m not the chosen one, one day, out of the blue. Sure I could say it’s about sexual attraction yet nothing to do with my outcome, but I was afraid, would I be treated differently? If I wasn’t the favored one, would I be left out?
I convinced myself that this world has been run by penis for thousands of years. Sexual appeal is the express ticket to be successful. Like people say, a pretty girl gets her way. That’s the time I knew my anger was just only the first layer of emotions, the second one under anger was self-loathing, as I saw myself as “I might not be pretty enough”. So I was hit, hitting quite hard. Breaking the fact that I was just a jealous fat-ass, wishing I could be a pretty sunshine baby. The anger was nothing but just a shield, guarding my last pride.
Once I realized the second layer, it was getting even worse. I found my anger toward the girl is far more than toward the man. I hated it. They say girls need to be aside with each other. I had tried, trying to be allied with her, but I just couldn’t understand her, everything she did was absurd. I could give mercy to a poor girl who was insulted by a very wrong person, I could support a vulnerable one to stand up against the brutal world. I was like a superwoman who was capped on and ready to save the world.
But there was no call.
I expected that she would ask for help, or just do something. I understood it’s her choice, to respond normally as peace moves. However, it’s just not what I would do. I could never be the same after all the drama, he was banished from my world since the very second I knew his approach, the boundary was loud and clear. But as the girl on stage, she is, now and forever, the same old cutie. Therefore, superwoman had to take off her cape and step down.
I should never EXPECT others to be ideal, especially ideal in “my” way, right? I do know that, my therapist reminded me too. But I was still judgmental, therefore the third emotion came, it’s self-hatred. I despised myself as a hypocrite, who claimed to be understanding but was still being sarcastic inside.
Days after days, I kept communicating with myself, writing journals to record emotions and doing every consulting skill I’ve learned, but what disappointed me the most was that the negative emotions were still here in my mind, they became endless loops. I was drowning in the ocean of depression, burning in the wildfire rage.
There was no way out.
Act 3
It’s been a month and a half after I wrote a great confession and had the last session with my therapist.
We talked about my anger, my struggle and every chaos inside my head, she kept asking me, kept pushing me to talk.
I do know there’s no chance for anyone to say anything, I also understand that even if I confronted them, I could get nothing but a solid silence. That is, I did anger, I was detached, I felt isolated, I made myself exiled, escaping the suffocating relationship between him and her and me, suffering from the unsolved issue.
For what? She asked. For God’s sake, for what?
For standing on the moral high land, I shouted out. I wanted to stand uphill and despise them, I wanted to sabotage the relations, therefore I suffered myself to be a saint, to be capped again.
But what if the purpose wasn’t sacred, would I still be one? What if I only wanted to get revenge for not being favored (though I know this isn’t the right way, but I mean, I’m a Leo, we are competitive in every way), am I still clean?
The answer is clearly uncertain.
My therapist then asked me, “Will you stop hating yourself and let the anger go away? Will you stop doing distancing stuff and be intimate again? It’s alright you don’t want to change now, like a big turn. You can do it slowly, or maybe don’t, it’s up to you, as long as you know, actually know the reason behind all the emotions.”
I felt free, to be honest, even though I found myself pretty ugly in the story, but I have been free ever since then. I know all those emotions were chosen, they were not triggered by others, they were made on purpose, serving for my own sake.
I did them all by myself, therefore I do have the full control, I am not as vulnerable as I thought.
Act 4
The issue is not being chosen, but I am 100% capable of controlling my own mind, and how I respond to every single accident, who I want to be. What’s done is done, I cannot change the existing fact, however I could choose how I react and I must know why, therefore I could count the risk and take the consequence.
The show must go on, they’re going solo and I’m walking out from the theatre.
Thanks for the lesson, I’m done.
寫在中文版之前
這篇文章在形成初稿時，由於我過於憤怒且某些語境只有英文才能夠精準表達（有關性相關的文字，英文會再有些黑色幽默的成分存在，但發表的版本全被刪掉了哈哈），也或許在那個時候情緒太滿，用母語撰寫時會過於赤裸，我在用另外一個語言保護我自己，不被沈重的文字刺傷。
當然在書寫的過程當中習慣的語法讓這些文字開始歌唱，想要再次將那樣的韻律帶進中文的語境裡對我而言實在太過複雜與龐大。我不是專業的寫作者，尤其這一篇在談論的是我很難堪的一面，要再將這些文字轉化成類似的樣態太過困難，於是我尋求AI幫忙，當他翻譯成中文之後我再重新梳理成自己的樣子，兩個版本有點不太一樣，如果可以兩邊都看的話，或許會看到一些不同語氣，尤其是結尾的部分。
Act 1｜第一幕
這是一件我想說好幾個月的事。諮商我去了，當然我可能在幾次會談之後騙她說我很好，但面對現實吧，我其實沒有。它還是會時不時把我逼瘋，我沒辦法假裝。
我知道一個故事，一個很老套的故事。裡面有愛情、有背叛、有小三，在脈絡裡需要的元素一應俱全。但這也是一個安靜的故事，代表沒有撕心裂肺的哭喊，沒有幡然醒悟的道歉，當然，也沒有 happy ever after。當然這會是一個祕密故事，她是這樣告訴我的，啦。
就是這樣一個無聊到不值得說的故事，我何必再說？但如果真的這麼簡單，我就不會花那麼多時間厭惡自己、哭天搶地、怨天懟地。我應該只會大笑、八卦、講個沒完。我想這可能就是業報吧，畢竟我這麼愛看別人的戲，一副事不關己。
網路迷因說，我們只是愛看戲，沒想要當演員，我按了一個愛心，這太觸了，這就是在說我。只可惜這一次我當不了觀眾，我他媽就是個演員，等等，不對，嚴格也不是演員。我是那個可悲的、被迫跟演員互動的觀眾，故事的第四面牆。
我們本來要一起上台的，只是其他兩個人說好了自己要演，於是我被迫坐在台下，咬牙切齒著看著他們開始、他們結束。而我甚至不能拍手叫好，也不能大吼退票，我得安靜，因為「不是每個人」都知道我存在。
既然戲到終了我都不能說些什麼，那現在來到我自己的場子，我能不能大說特說？我想我可以，於是，請你拉出一把椅子，聽我一個人說這個故事，我的獨白。
Act 2｜第二幕
這是一個關於「被選擇」的故事。
某一天，毫無預警地，我意識到我不是被選中的那一個。我可以說這只是性吸引，和我的表現無關。但我實在害怕，如果我不是被偏愛的那個人，我會不會被排除在小圈圈之外？
於是我嘗試說服自己，性是這個世界千百年來運作的方式之一，性吸引力是通往成功的捷徑。英文有句說漂亮的女生總是能得到她想要的，也是在那一刻才明白憤怒只是第一層情緒。
第二層，是自我厭惡。當我認為自己是個「不夠漂亮的女孩」，沒拿到成功密碼的我，不得不承認我只是個嫉妒心作祟的胖子，幻想自己可以是那種閃閃發光的漂亮女孩。而憤怒，憤怒只是盾牌，用來保護我最後那點可憐的自尊。
事情越來越糟，當我挖得越來越深。我發現自己對女主角的憤怒遠遠超過男主角。流行音樂不都這樣唱嗎？女生要站在女生這邊。我試過，真的試過。但我就是無法理解她。她的每一個選擇在我眼裡都荒謬至極。我可以同情被傷害的女生，可以幫助脆弱的人站起來對抗世界。我像個披著披風的女超人準備好拯救世界，但她沒有任何求救訊號。
我期待她求助、期待她做點什麼，但她沒有。她只是選擇繼續原本的生活，而那不是我會做的選擇。因為從知道這一切的那一秒開始，男主角就被我宣判死刑，界線清清楚楚。而她呢？她還是那個可愛的她，從頭到尾都一樣。於是女超人只能脫下披風退場。
我知道，我不該期待別人照「我的標準」成為理想的樣子，諮商師再三提醒，但我還是質疑了，還是說出了「她應該」這樣的話語，於是第三層情緒終於出現，那是自我厭惡。
我厭惡自己是個偽君子，嘴上說理解，心裡卻在嘲諷。
一天又一天，我寫日記、分析情緒、用盡我學過的諮商技巧嘗試讓自己更好，但讓我絕望的是這一切毫無用處，負面情緒往復循環，沒有出口。
Act 3｜第三幕
距離我寫下那封長長的告解，以及最後一次諮商後的一個半月後，我再次提筆寫下第三幕。那次的諮商我們跳進了情緒漩渦，嘗試梳理那層層疊疊、死結一般的混亂。
諮商師不斷地詢問，鍥而不捨地要我說出這些情緒的來由。「你為什麼不快樂？你說你想要『談談』，跟誰談，你的目的是什麼？」她問，而我不知道該如何是好，因為我明白這是個假議題，事實上我不知道自己要什麼，我只會得到沈默，但沈默只是今晚的康橋，不是我的。於是我憤怒、疏離、自我放逐，期望逃離那段令人窒息的三人關係。
諮商師再次問我：「到底為了什麼？」
為了什麼？我大喊——為了站在道德的制高點上痛斥他們的無恥。因爲我想要破壞我們之間的關係，然後等待破罐子真的摔碎的那刻說——都是你們逼我的。
但如果這個動機並不高尚呢？如果我只是想報復，只是想要嘗試邪惡的說，那我還能站在那個高處嗎？就算我讓自己陷入情緒旋窩中，用自我懲罰的方式背上十字架，我那邪惡的心思能讓我真的成為聖人嗎？
答案十分不確定。
於是她得到了真正的答案，溫柔的問我：「你願不願意停止恨自己？讓憤怒慢慢消失？願不願意停止疏離，再次和人們建立連結？你不用現在改變，可以慢慢來。甚至不改也沒關係。只要你真的知道——這些情緒從哪裡來。」
那一刻，狂風暴雨平息了，我內心的動盪因為明白而平靜，我知道這些情緒都是我的選擇。這不是別人造成的，我不是個受害者，這一切是我自己做的、只為了自己做的。
Act 4｜第四幕
當我擁有控制權，選擇不再是命題。我完全有能力掌控自己的心，以及我如何回應每一件事。我無法改變過去，但必須明白現在的自己完全有能力決定如何應對已知的事實，我也必須了解所有的選擇是為了「什麼」，因為這樣才能夠承擔後果。
老實說，在這個故事我看起來更像是惡人，邪惡但自由的惡女。或許這個故事就只是三人劇團演了一場沒有我的戲，而我決定出走。
屬於中文版本的後記。
寫完之後發現，幹，這故事怎麼也還是這麼難看。但如果用善惡魔法學院的故事邏輯來說，我就是Sophie，一個終於自知是惡女的自我覺醒史，這樣講應該就沒那麼難看了吧，你最好要這樣想（邪惡）。
Yee’s 
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