Hello Dearest Love

people say you can't turn back time but they're lying. i did it last friday with the boy. three years ago, the boy was just a boy, a normal boy i could see, hear and touch without feeling like i'd drop dead if he ever left. that's probably what most (unhealthy) relationships become. every heartbeat is a reminder that you've placed your life in someone else's hands. you're an eggshell, you're a shell.

if you read my previous post, you'll know that my only resolution this year was to be more like stargirl. what you might not have guessed was the presence of an unspoken resolution. not even a resolution, really. more of this unbearable exigency. i repeated it over and over again in my head - tell him tell him tell him - to make sure i wouldn't forget.

so after dinner on friday, when he asked me if we were ok, i opened my mouth to say yes. to say i love you, we're fine. but i didn't. i told him everything and i waited. he looked at me and asked me if i meant it. for a brief moment, i wanted to give in, pretend that i had been joking and we could just forget i'd said anything. then i looked him straight in the eye (which scared me because i never do that with anyone) and nodded.

the thing is, i will probably never be able to identify the exact moment i fell out of love. i'd like to imagine my heart as a balloon with a tiny pinprick; emptying out all the feelings i had for the boy slowly and surely, until one day there was nothing left but a soft rubber shell. waiting for the next person to come along with a band-aid to stick over the hole, to fill it up with love again.

waiting for his answer, it made me realise how empty that balloon had been for quite a while. like a little girl who refuses to give up, i dragged my deflated heart on a string, pretending that it would still float. fly.

he says he's going to be fine, that this was the best thing that we could have done. went on about sinking ships and distances (physical and emotional) untraversed. promised me that we'd always love each other, although not in the same way any more. i held on to my sunken balloon.

and that's how i did it. built a time-machine out of lost feelings and broken hearts. i went back to the day i met the boy, when we were just friends. when he was just a boy. a boy. that's how he was always meant to be for me. a boy. i'm not sure if he's here yet, but i'm waiting for him to fall into his own time-machine and meet a girl. not the girl. not the boy and the girl. just a boy and a girl who hadn't learned how to be in love yet.


Le Cygne

i like to think of myself as perceptive, but somehow i always fail at reading between the lines. it's just like that online quiz i took, the one that shows you pictures of eyes, and you're supposed to guess what they're trying to emote. 42 out of 45, but i still can't do it in real life. sometimes i look in the mirror and realise that i can't even tell what i'm feeling.

oh i don't know, i wish i could do so much better than a carelessly worded blog post. there are so many thoughts that i want to elucidate, but they're always discordant and jarring, even as i'm shaping them inside my head. for a brief second, i almost manage to string them into a sentence that might work, but then they tumble into a hodgepodge of ugly words. 

so i'm just going to end this by saying that my hair is really shiny today and it makes me quite happy whenever i catch a glimpse of myself in the glossy sheen of our oven door.



some mornings, i think, are harder to shed
those with the scent of sleep still fresh on skin
eyelashes flickering in the lambent light of a gaze
wanting to shake off the dust, the lucifugous sheet
that clings to the body long after i wake
remnants of chimera moments, almost real
how is it that something lost in a dream
is mourned with the utmost gravitas
as if i could never again
trace your bones, the hollow of your throat
see you illuminated under fireworks
on the first day of the first year
that i forgot to be in love


What Took You So Long?



so it’s the new year. how it crept up on me without a sound, i have no idea. i usually sit down a few days beforehand with a pen and my favourite writing pad so i can make a list of resolutions, but i guess i already knew subconsciously that there weren’t going to be many this time. just one.

my favourite book in the entire world is stargirl by jerry spinelli; it’s really good, you should read it. the eponymous character is who i’ve aspired to be all my life, but i’ve never really stuck to it. this year, i wrote it in magenta sharpie on my arm. stargirl. i want to be stargirl. the faded ink looks like a stretched out bruise – i’ve had six people ask me how i managed to hurt myself so badly.

but as i was saying, this year needs to be different. exigency, pure and simple, demands that i revert to times when i could vivify every aspect of my life with the sheer desire to be happy. can you believe that once, i snuck a kitten into my apartment just because i wanted to. want. such a strange word. i say it all the time – i want to go to italy! i want to own a cotton-candy machine! i want to be happy! – but when the moment comes, i let it pass. need surpassed want ages ago. i can’t do that to myself anymore. as of now, i am going to look at my arm every single day and remember. i must be stargirl. resolution right there people.

my friend Wall made me realise that there are so many things i have never eaten. marshmallows, marzipan, macarons and miracle whip (T____T). i don’t know why we only discussed food starting with the letter m. still, it’s not that surprising. unlike most girls i know, i wasn’t born with a sweet tooth so i rarely opt to try desserts after a meal. and even when i do, i stay on the boring path and pick strawberry ice-cream. no more. it’s not really a resolution, more of a keep in the back of my head thing. eat different food. stop picking the same three dishes on the menu every time i go to a restaurant.

and the last thing i want to say is that i am learning how to juggle (still not a resolution!). not just problems in life and university assignments, but actual physical juggling balls. so far this consists of me trying to toss a ball from one hand to another in a predictable and uniform rhythm. yes, i said a ball. apparently i am that one person who is entirely incapable of judging distance accurately. i will keep at it though. there are so many things in life that i could be good at, but they’re all out there waiting for me to discover them. master them. this could be one of them. this could be it.

hi you, happy new year!