I was really surprised when I received a SMS from her last week. And so we had arranged to meet up today, since I last saw her on 16th June, exactly 3 months ago. Work is piling up back in camp and these past few days have been hectic. There are so many things I had to remember, but somehow I forgot the meeting place. So I asked her again. The reply wasn't too friendly. The same old her, I thought.
Happy hour was held after work today. The alluring chicken wings and curry fishhead bidded goodbye to the first shuttle bus. The other bus was to arrive in another half an hour. Being late was the next last thing I would want to do. 7pm was the meeting time. I reached at 7.15pm, inclusive of oversleeping for an extra stop to Bugis. She was later than I was, fortunately.
The same welcoming smile greeted me, warming me the same way months before. However, the feeling was different. The new style fits her real well, bringing out her outgoing and strongheaded characteristic. I feel kinda awkward as the conversation striked. It was rather unnatural and uneasy.
She got a burger. Still stuffed from the wings and fishhead earlier, I had gotten a ice-cream pie to dine along with her. We went straight to the point. Why had she asked me out? I was gunnned down. Do I know the reason behind the breakup? I tried to recollect the events, the emotions. I was momentarily lost for words. I felt embarrassed. And I pushed the pie away. It used to be a torment for me. Passing each night without her in the picture did not happen until recently. It was hard to recollect the emotions that time had already erased.
She was upset by the fact that I had kept to myself all the time since that day. I had not responded even after I had received her parcel. I had wrote a full 3 to 4 pages letter in reply to her parcel. I wrote it the night right after I got the parcel. Even on the way back from the post office, I was so taken over by emotions. The letter was destroyed few days later when the computer crashed. I knew I could never write another letter in the same mood. Maybe it was destined not to reach her at all. I decided to wait patiently for the one and a half month before I contact her again. For this I had never expect another misunderstanding to arise. It seemed to her she was being autocratic while I just took in every command she gave, even the breaking up. I had took her pact of one and a half month so seriously, that I had to emotionally restraint myself from contacting her at all. I promised myself to keep away. It was tough in the beginning. I missed her utterly. I actually thought she had it planned in such a way it falls on my birthday. And thus so full of hope when I asked her out on my birthday. I was disappointed to see her reply. I told myself,'probably she had wanted to come out, but as always, she must be tied down by unforeseen events. She must be busy.' Nor did I receive any word from her on my birthday. A simple SMS could have been my greatest gift than anything else. I waited the whole day, and the day after. I wondered if she had forgotten, or was it intentional. That could have been the day I would officially not called her my elder sister; the day when she had said I would receive a card bigger and more wonderful than the one she made for Edmund. I thought she would not want to meet up ever again. I told myself, it's time to forget.
Upon receiving the parcel, I decided to give the album back to her, filled up. I couldn't find enough photos to fill it all up. I wanted to return it on my bithday. Then I thought I could never had the chance. I was waiting for this meeting. I did not understand why she had so cruelly sent the stuffs back to me. Did it mean that she wanted nothing more to do with me? The album was the last thing I would want to receive. It was meant for her to keep, for me to remember. I was yet disappointed again for her refusal to take it back. All these things actually act as burdens for her. They only remind her of the negative things. What more could I do? Pehaps I could keep all the happy times and sad moments to myself. Let nothing from our relationship affect her in any way. I cherished the time I had with her. These things are important to me. I will keep them dearly.
"Was our relationship that paper-thin? Yes it is..." It had been echoing in my head. She claimed she had never know me well, she had never loved me. "Paper-thin..." For all the tears I shed, all the love I gave, all the torment I went through, I protest that paper-thin is not the word to define our relationship. Perhaps it might appear so for her. I blame it in my part for not being open to her. I simply wanted everything best for her, I am willing to keep all the hurt and disappointment unmentioned, make everything looked wonderful to her favour. It was a totally wrong concept. I was not making myself transparent, so used to keeping things to myself that I seemed more of a stranger to her. It was justified for her to define it as paper-thin.
"It takes two hands to crap."
-- Jialong --
No comments:
Post a Comment