Tuesday, February 25, 2003
A short snippet about someone I knew once, an older, kinder person than myself. Attractive, in a fresh-faced, vibrant kind of way. More, to be honest, a pixie than an elf, after all pixies are pretty aren't they? Elves are... gangly and strange. Met her with the intention of hooking her up with my elder sibling, and was accidentally charmed. Probably pheremones... do those travel over telephones? Eventually I came crashing back to reality though. People like that are special; you don't waste their time. Everyone, I believe, has a certain someone out there meant for them. Yes, I truly believe that, and some of us have lost them, some of us have found them. The females, unfortunately, have a finite time in this cruel world to find them, and when the headiness of initial romance wears off, well... I just wanted her to be happy, in a proper way, that perhaps someday I too will share.
Okay, got that off my chest now.
And back to our regularly scheduled programme. Watched 2 weeks notice the other day - yes, I know real life isn't at all like reel life, not even vaguely representative - and a sentence stuck. "I've got your voice in my head, and I don't think I want to forget it". Yes, yes I know, all of us extract choice sentences from movies to identify with, that's why there're so many gems in there if you're paying attention; the bit where Sandra Bullock mourns a missing boyfriend who is never there for her - so many girls, I imagine, can identify with that, both physically and metaphorically - but that single sentence stuck with me. Because for me, it's true. I've got your voice in my head. And try as I might, I couldn't forget it. And 7 years later, I know that I don't want to forget it. It would make me less of who I am now.
And somewhere in here, I feel awful. Wondering how on earth I ended up where I am now, and how it's taken me so long to realise that I'd rather be with nobody at all - be entirely free, and happy than be with somebody other than You. The latter would be a much more pleasant prospect. But the former would also be equally pleasant, and far less stressful and guilt-ridden than what I endure at present day.
Oh yeah. More K****-itis. Met your cousin the other day. Isn't that weird? a few thousand Singaporeans here, and I ran into her. :\
This is Bubu, calling out to Yogi, over.
Okay, got that off my chest now.
And back to our regularly scheduled programme. Watched 2 weeks notice the other day - yes, I know real life isn't at all like reel life, not even vaguely representative - and a sentence stuck. "I've got your voice in my head, and I don't think I want to forget it". Yes, yes I know, all of us extract choice sentences from movies to identify with, that's why there're so many gems in there if you're paying attention; the bit where Sandra Bullock mourns a missing boyfriend who is never there for her - so many girls, I imagine, can identify with that, both physically and metaphorically - but that single sentence stuck with me. Because for me, it's true. I've got your voice in my head. And try as I might, I couldn't forget it. And 7 years later, I know that I don't want to forget it. It would make me less of who I am now.
And somewhere in here, I feel awful. Wondering how on earth I ended up where I am now, and how it's taken me so long to realise that I'd rather be with nobody at all - be entirely free, and happy than be with somebody other than You. The latter would be a much more pleasant prospect. But the former would also be equally pleasant, and far less stressful and guilt-ridden than what I endure at present day.
Oh yeah. More K****-itis. Met your cousin the other day. Isn't that weird? a few thousand Singaporeans here, and I ran into her. :\
This is Bubu, calling out to Yogi, over.
Sunday, February 09, 2003
It's funny how I know every now and then I've had a dream about you. I can never really remember what the dream was about, but the fact that I can't - subconsciously erased from memory? - and that certain funny sad feeling I have let me know sure enough. It's like the way certain scents trigger certain memories. Maybe I've just been thinking about you a little more than I should. Couldn't help it the other day, opening a flip top bottle. I just remember. And it saddens me a little more than it should. Me, the master of euphemism. Who needs to be Master of the World then, when I have the State of Euphemism. Flippancy will get you nowhere, but flattery will get you everywhere.
So I wonder why I'm doing this, why, as a friend of mine used to say I'm having a bout of K****-itis. I wanted to type your name out in full for once, but I just couldn't... I guess I'm jut not that happy with my life. I'm getting good at being a Working Professional, sussing out my job. Working from common sense, and it seems to click. I just need to pick up a little more knowledge, and have the rest of my life to do that, to get really good at this. I've got a steady relationship, which is good, but somehow seems slightly empty to me. Good, but not Good enough. In short, Floundering. I remember you telling me something similar a lifetime ago, about a guy you used to go out with. And suddenly I'm standing on a razor's edge, wondering why? Where's that laugh, that smile... those eyes.
It seems so surreal that I once knew You. But I remember it, from a distance, far away. And it was awesome. You were awesome. I was lucky. Now I'm not.
And the damndest thing is I still miss you. 7 years down the line, going strong. All I can do is tell myself I don't know you anymore. And maybe I never did.
I miss confiding in you. And hearing your thoughts about my incessant rambles. And hearing you laugh at my attempts at wit. The current other half doesn't understand them. Will I end my days with her? I guess security is just so comfortable. And comforting. But so unfulfilling at times.
I did all this to forget you. I lost you to forget you. And I still remember.
Do you remember asking me where I wanted to go from here, and that the ball was in my court? I wish I'd seized the day and told you where I wanted to go. But I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I kept quiet. Funny thing is, given another chance... I don't know if I'd have done any different. I never wanted to hurt you. Above all, above everything... I wanted to keep you safe, and happy. And I still hurt you. And me.
I guess I need a K****-ectomy.
Or perhaps a full frontal lobectomy, if not a full bottle in front of me.
So I wonder why I'm doing this, why, as a friend of mine used to say I'm having a bout of K****-itis. I wanted to type your name out in full for once, but I just couldn't... I guess I'm jut not that happy with my life. I'm getting good at being a Working Professional, sussing out my job. Working from common sense, and it seems to click. I just need to pick up a little more knowledge, and have the rest of my life to do that, to get really good at this. I've got a steady relationship, which is good, but somehow seems slightly empty to me. Good, but not Good enough. In short, Floundering. I remember you telling me something similar a lifetime ago, about a guy you used to go out with. And suddenly I'm standing on a razor's edge, wondering why? Where's that laugh, that smile... those eyes.
It seems so surreal that I once knew You. But I remember it, from a distance, far away. And it was awesome. You were awesome. I was lucky. Now I'm not.
And the damndest thing is I still miss you. 7 years down the line, going strong. All I can do is tell myself I don't know you anymore. And maybe I never did.
I miss confiding in you. And hearing your thoughts about my incessant rambles. And hearing you laugh at my attempts at wit. The current other half doesn't understand them. Will I end my days with her? I guess security is just so comfortable. And comforting. But so unfulfilling at times.
I did all this to forget you. I lost you to forget you. And I still remember.
Do you remember asking me where I wanted to go from here, and that the ball was in my court? I wish I'd seized the day and told you where I wanted to go. But I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I kept quiet. Funny thing is, given another chance... I don't know if I'd have done any different. I never wanted to hurt you. Above all, above everything... I wanted to keep you safe, and happy. And I still hurt you. And me.
I guess I need a K****-ectomy.
Or perhaps a full frontal lobectomy, if not a full bottle in front of me.
