Try again?
I'm not sure where we are at the moment given recent events, but it's been interesting. I look at my face in the mirror and there's a different me looking right back. With the glow, and the look in the eyes that I can't quite read. An observer would say I am happy. Maybe too happy.
You asked me for the blog address, and I didn't give it to you. I just can't, I'm sorry. This is not for you and me to share. It's just for me. Maybe a sign (symptom?) of adulthood is the inability to fathom what I myself am thinking or feeling. Yeah, that's it. As adults we have stopped analysing our feelings too closely because there's no time and we just don't want to deal with the situation. Mostly the latter. I don't want to deal with the situation - I just want to live in the present, like a dog. Or an amoeba. They're happy.
So I don't know why I don't want to share this with you or anyone. But I know I don't. How do I feel about you? I don't know. But I do look forward to the possibility of seeing you every day and any day. I glow. Do you feel the same?
What do I think about when I think of us? There are some moments that you just remember - for you there are so many.
You paging me on the night of my birthday all those years ago, and the hurt in your voice when I said I couldn't meet. I knew it was a mistake - if I had to do it all again, I'd just walk right out of WK's house right that minute, and see you. I suspected then that I loved you. How was I to recognise the feeling? It was too new.
Then there was you kissing the back of my neck in my mother's living room, where it all started. A searchlight came on, and it's been burning since then, illuminating black water and dark turbulent waves where there are no survivors in sight.
There was you walking into the library to pick me up on our very first date. You were wearing your Ralph Lauren shirt and blue jeans. I was wearing my white Esprit dress, picked after a morning of indecision and plenty of clothes flung on the bed in frustration. Ai Chun says, you have to be crazy. Why are you going out with him?
There was your voice on my secretary's telephone on a Saturday, when we spoke for the first time in 2 years and you had just returned from New York. I knew you were married and I knew you still cared for me by the way you looked at me. I glowed incandescent as I waited for you to pick me up. I never felt so beautiful. We went to Starbucks at Orchard Point and shared a slice of chocolate cake.
Our lives could've been so different. They can still be so different, even now. I don't need to have only memories. And what vivid memories they are.
Sometimes I lie awake going through my theories of how we ended up this way - not what went wrong, but how a feeling could carry on for so long, so intensely and be so destructive to everything in its path. It can only be a spiritual connection that defies logic. Maybe we knew each other in a previous life. I can almost recall telling someone that I'll risk it. I'll take the risk of losing you, and we'll beat the odds for sure. What was the context? I don't know. But it's one of my oldest memories. Yet it's not of me at any particular age, it's just a memory of me taking a foolhardy step with the greatest confidence that we would not fail, and that the feeling of love that we had at that point in time could survive anything. A new life? A new body? A new set of obstacles? If it really happened then that was kinda stupid, to think I could find you again and we could be together. But I've always had a strange feeling ever since the first time I saw you and caught your eye, that we were meant to be something more.
Seeing the words on a page makes the whole idea seem stupid. But I am so sure. When the searchlights came on, the feeling strengthened. I've only had that feeling one other time and that was a blip. There was the other time when I got into a cab and I was completely terrified even though nothing happened and nothing was said.
Anyway, this is getting too long. I need an outlet for my thoughts which cannot be expressed anywhere else and this is it.
You asked me for the blog address, and I didn't give it to you. I just can't, I'm sorry. This is not for you and me to share. It's just for me. Maybe a sign (symptom?) of adulthood is the inability to fathom what I myself am thinking or feeling. Yeah, that's it. As adults we have stopped analysing our feelings too closely because there's no time and we just don't want to deal with the situation. Mostly the latter. I don't want to deal with the situation - I just want to live in the present, like a dog. Or an amoeba. They're happy.
So I don't know why I don't want to share this with you or anyone. But I know I don't. How do I feel about you? I don't know. But I do look forward to the possibility of seeing you every day and any day. I glow. Do you feel the same?
What do I think about when I think of us? There are some moments that you just remember - for you there are so many.
You paging me on the night of my birthday all those years ago, and the hurt in your voice when I said I couldn't meet. I knew it was a mistake - if I had to do it all again, I'd just walk right out of WK's house right that minute, and see you. I suspected then that I loved you. How was I to recognise the feeling? It was too new.
Then there was you kissing the back of my neck in my mother's living room, where it all started. A searchlight came on, and it's been burning since then, illuminating black water and dark turbulent waves where there are no survivors in sight.
There was you walking into the library to pick me up on our very first date. You were wearing your Ralph Lauren shirt and blue jeans. I was wearing my white Esprit dress, picked after a morning of indecision and plenty of clothes flung on the bed in frustration. Ai Chun says, you have to be crazy. Why are you going out with him?
There was your voice on my secretary's telephone on a Saturday, when we spoke for the first time in 2 years and you had just returned from New York. I knew you were married and I knew you still cared for me by the way you looked at me. I glowed incandescent as I waited for you to pick me up. I never felt so beautiful. We went to Starbucks at Orchard Point and shared a slice of chocolate cake.
Our lives could've been so different. They can still be so different, even now. I don't need to have only memories. And what vivid memories they are.
Sometimes I lie awake going through my theories of how we ended up this way - not what went wrong, but how a feeling could carry on for so long, so intensely and be so destructive to everything in its path. It can only be a spiritual connection that defies logic. Maybe we knew each other in a previous life. I can almost recall telling someone that I'll risk it. I'll take the risk of losing you, and we'll beat the odds for sure. What was the context? I don't know. But it's one of my oldest memories. Yet it's not of me at any particular age, it's just a memory of me taking a foolhardy step with the greatest confidence that we would not fail, and that the feeling of love that we had at that point in time could survive anything. A new life? A new body? A new set of obstacles? If it really happened then that was kinda stupid, to think I could find you again and we could be together. But I've always had a strange feeling ever since the first time I saw you and caught your eye, that we were meant to be something more.
Seeing the words on a page makes the whole idea seem stupid. But I am so sure. When the searchlights came on, the feeling strengthened. I've only had that feeling one other time and that was a blip. There was the other time when I got into a cab and I was completely terrified even though nothing happened and nothing was said.
Anyway, this is getting too long. I need an outlet for my thoughts which cannot be expressed anywhere else and this is it.
posted by asdf at 9:10 AM
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