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We needed to meet, face to face.
After the longest two weeks of distance, Kero and I decided that it was time.
We needed to connect like we used to before this maelstrom of emotional uncertainties fell on us. We needed to keep a face attached to the stories we hear. We needed to talk and be civil like people that fall out of non-relationships are forced to be. We needed to be friends. She needed to try. I needed to hang on.
As such, a plan was quickly put into place. It was essentially simple enough; I would pick her up for lunch and bring her to one of the finest Indian restaurant our city had to offer. We would order ridicules amounts, sample everything that poked our curiosity, enjoy the decorations, giggle under the flurry of our inside jokes and smoke like we were immortals. To close the afternoon, we would catch the screening of Episode III at a nearby cinema. Only then, with her breath slow and contented, would she go home. With a smile on her face and a smile on mine knowing that another mission was well accomplished. Simple.
Not too common to be forgotten. Not too elaborate to find myself racing against the sundial. I even got her a limited edition CD by one of her favorite bands. It was going to be simple. It was going to work. It was going to be idiot-proof, even for me.
But as the city would have it, Murphy’s Law decided to impose itself onto this effort and… man, it was unrelenting.
Four hours behind three queues in two different cinemas that took two buses and one train ride eventually found me without tickets for the show.
An overdue wake up call in the morning and two hours of Bangsar traffic lead me to her doorstep over an hour late.
A map faxed over to me by the restaurant and then later revised by a friend not only had us lost but eventually took us to a different restaurant all together.
She was very sleepy by the time we got there and I was rather tired myself from driving all morning. We didn’t say much, we just ate and tried painfully to laugh.
There’s not much that I now remember from this conversation with Kero. Except that things are better with her boyfriend, her life is filling up with new people, work was finally becoming challenging and that I still can't look her in eyes.
Later that evening Seng asked me how it went, all I could say was that we Passaged Through India and somehow found ourselves at The Bombay Palace. He rolled on the floor laughing. I grinned and asked him to pass the bottle.
I should also note that she left the CD in the car.
Goodnight, world. Hold her for me, won't you?
-----------------------------------------------
Ngan-ism:
"If you believe in true love, you'll also have to accept that not everybody finds it. Quantitative logic and semantics, that's just the way these fucking cities work".
After the longest two weeks of distance, Kero and I decided that it was time.
We needed to connect like we used to before this maelstrom of emotional uncertainties fell on us. We needed to keep a face attached to the stories we hear. We needed to talk and be civil like people that fall out of non-relationships are forced to be. We needed to be friends. She needed to try. I needed to hang on.
As such, a plan was quickly put into place. It was essentially simple enough; I would pick her up for lunch and bring her to one of the finest Indian restaurant our city had to offer. We would order ridicules amounts, sample everything that poked our curiosity, enjoy the decorations, giggle under the flurry of our inside jokes and smoke like we were immortals. To close the afternoon, we would catch the screening of Episode III at a nearby cinema. Only then, with her breath slow and contented, would she go home. With a smile on her face and a smile on mine knowing that another mission was well accomplished. Simple.
Not too common to be forgotten. Not too elaborate to find myself racing against the sundial. I even got her a limited edition CD by one of her favorite bands. It was going to be simple. It was going to work. It was going to be idiot-proof, even for me.
But as the city would have it, Murphy’s Law decided to impose itself onto this effort and… man, it was unrelenting.
Four hours behind three queues in two different cinemas that took two buses and one train ride eventually found me without tickets for the show.
An overdue wake up call in the morning and two hours of Bangsar traffic lead me to her doorstep over an hour late.
A map faxed over to me by the restaurant and then later revised by a friend not only had us lost but eventually took us to a different restaurant all together.
She was very sleepy by the time we got there and I was rather tired myself from driving all morning. We didn’t say much, we just ate and tried painfully to laugh.
There’s not much that I now remember from this conversation with Kero. Except that things are better with her boyfriend, her life is filling up with new people, work was finally becoming challenging and that I still can't look her in eyes.
Later that evening Seng asked me how it went, all I could say was that we Passaged Through India and somehow found ourselves at The Bombay Palace. He rolled on the floor laughing. I grinned and asked him to pass the bottle.
I should also note that she left the CD in the car.
Goodnight, world. Hold her for me, won't you?
-----------------------------------------------
Ngan-ism:
"If you believe in true love, you'll also have to accept that not everybody finds it. Quantitative logic and semantics, that's just the way these fucking cities work".
posted by Ngan Chong at 12:20 AM
2 Comments:
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