dolorous interludes.

What a night, filled with surprises that was only a result of spontaneity. i met him at a time i rarely was out at, and even then, i felt a strange calmness that complemented my excited self. quite so thrilling, really, doing something you'd never thought you would, especially when your parents're away. and so we meet. at the porch of a white building i never saw in my life. what struck me were the eerie mannequins displayed by the glass panels. i imagined them coming to life, talking to me. the fantastical imagination at a late hour never fails to astound me; that night was no exception. then, i saw a figure in white, strolling languidly towards this white building. at the same time, a security man was walking towards me. a sudden fear gripped me as i watched the two figures approach me slowly but surely. ah. the moment of fear shot by into the plumbless depths of the night as i arose and went towards the white figure. what was left of the security man i never knew as i never turned back, and the both of us walked on silently, as the night. or morning.

we drifted on ahead as aimless creatures do, the way life floats us by like boats floating along with the currents. we decided finally on the western coasts. it was almost bewildering, that place. people there were, even at such an hour! there was hardly a shoreline to speak of, and so we walked on. quite a lovely sight it was: the sky on one side was a morose purple pink, which served as a lovely background against the brightlights of the other side. i never knew what the other side was. on another side, where the skies were darker, beautiful little diamond stars sparkled! we finally walked through the boardwalks that led us to a marshland swamp; such walks never fail to amaze me: the sense of discovery and delight, the sense of adventure, ambiguity and ambivalence. the feeling of enclosure amongst the plants felt almost menacing, but my comfort was in my company. i realise i havent spoken much of this person in white; i was quite so enthralled by what i saw and felt in seeing.

we sat down on a bench facing the most hilarious signboard: a stereotypical picture of a scaly fish and a red slash right across it; no fishing, yes! we wondered at whether fish even existed at such a place, and our wonders were answered by the occasional splashes that were indicative of their existence. he says we woke the fishes. are they nocturnal, i wondered. so we sat, and we talked. he told me of a certain someone i never heard of, and therefore thought much of. she returns this sunday, yes? this would mark something new, i feel. A great change will take place, with what little time can provide. i fear change. he will soon grow distant as i plunge headwards into the mind wrenching exams, and as he meets this certain someone he feels something for. she's quite the good girl, it seems; id feel quite happy for him should he make something out of the three weeks with her. or so i say. the heart is a strange cavern; we feel kind, loving, and selfish all the same.

in a moment of suddeness, he proposed coming over. and so he did. it was the kind of strangeness i felt, as if i were the one visiting a foreign place. but the house did feel foreign with him in it. not in a bad sense, just different. For two hours, like ephemeral streams, we talked. i cant quite remember what we spoke of however, "always so inconsequential our conversations", he says. -smiles- how we hold dearly to the most inconsequential things then! i remember speaking of the specialest people in our lives. he spoke of Ian if i remember not wrongly. he asked me if he was special. -smiles- more special than you think you are my dear, more special than i think you are.

the conversation was filled with moments of silence. i was tired, but i didnt want to sleep. he said he felt "taciturn". he said that i should account for all my moments of silence. if only he knew. grins. he probably did not feel the same as i did then; the wanting. dont get me wrong, good, intimate conversation is paramount to me, but haunted by images in past dreams leave me only wanting. still. a strangely hilarious conversation we had about it too. i smile as i write this. i asked him why he was hesitant. he darent look me in the eye! shifty he was, always this way each time i ask something he doesnt wish to say. this boy always leaves gaps, and only my mind and imagination to fill those spaces. i still know not truly the answer. "unconventional", he says. can we truly divorce our heart from physical intimacy, especially if you know the person well? i dont know. i said we could. i thought i could. i think i can, to some extent. perhaps i do feel more than what i seemed i did, but i choose to walk away from it like he does, and so easily too. feelings and thoughts not dwelled upon is the best way to detach ourselves from special moments.

i enjoyed myself; its been awhile since iv been intimate with someone i really wanted to be with. in my dreams i could never fully imagine what it would be like, until that morning. seven am mind you! one cannot be explicit with these things, especially here, and so these feelings i reserve for my handwritten journal. he was quite so astounded by it. if only i allowed him a read, all the more it would have astounded him! So morning came for us as he awoke. it was strange altogether. one feels almost wary of the other at such a time. he fulfilled his promise: when that was over, we would be good friends like always. smiles. good friends we are. how much more i wish we could be. dont say im pining. im not. there's nothing i could expect from you, and nothing i will. i knew you as someone who lived for the moment, and moments with you, i can only live for that instant.

i played on the piano for you. after the nocturne, i felt almost comfortable playing for you. its strange that of all people, you should be the one who impresses on me such a calmness. and the Time came, as always Time does, where one leaves. i thought it almost symbolic watching him leave my estate. he walks away, with such ease, with such a smile plastered on his face, i felt i didnt know what to feel. i still dont. but like him, "i dont regret many things, and that night, was no exception. "

posted by voyeur @ 10/25/2003 02:17:00 PM