Lost

Eight Years Ago:

he strains to see her in the dark, sitting a metre of so across him. he can hardly make out her features, let alone make eye contact. she's a friend of his cousin whom he met online when his silly cousin added her to his contact list and was probarly to lazy to delete it. he recalls their first encounter online, or at least he tries to. it comes back to him in bits and pieces. the only thing he remembers clearly was his confident online flirting with her. he smiles. how interesting. he keeps his eyes locked on her, trying desperately to catch her attention. at times it really seems that she's looking at him, but he really can't be sure. the thought that's constantly on his mind is 'she's cute..real cute..but ah..don't be crazy'

he reluctantly walks away with his friends, unwilling to take his eyes away from her. he feels it. 'damn..shit shit shit..don't even think about it..damn.' he's not going to have yet another crush on yet another girl again. this is crazy. can't someone put a rein on his whatever-you-call-it. he can almost predict the results, the outcome of this ridiculous feeling. here's his life - he likes girl, girl doesn't return the affection, girl rejects, he feels sad, he sees another .. ah the cycle goes on. what does this look like to you? its something he himself can't even comprehend. he shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. he's a gonner. silently he sings the lyrics of 'heaven'. oh and guess what, he hasn't even spoken more than ah..3 sentences to her.

-

his heart is beating at an amazing rate. she's sitting beside him. they're sitting on a damp bench, both their brains must have been slacking to have allowed them to ignore the dampness. he smiles again; realises that he has been smiling a lot, even breaking out into big grins, sometimes cheesy ones. doesn't matter, he's happy, happy like um..anything. she likes him too, he knows that by then, she having already confirmed his suspicions over the phone. an idea struck him. risky, no doubt, but feasible. he smiles yet again. 'eh..see your hand?' yeps, its this corny. doesn't matter though, she fell for it. he raises his right hand slightly, palm facing the sky. she looks at him; places her left hand onto his right hand, exclaims something about his hand being big. he's not listening. he shifts his hand slightly and gently bends his fingers inwards, in doing so holding her hand. silence. time passes. he holds on to her hand. another thought. he looks down at their hands, fingers interlocked. he brings up her hand and kisses it. shock on her face. he looks at her. time passes. 'are we attached?' 'nopes, not yet.' 'okay..' he pops the question..the question he thinks he knows the answer to, he can't be wrong can he? she nods her head, says something like 'yes' or 'okay'. doesn't matter. he isn't listening. he's overjoyed. he grins, like a little boy who finally got the toy plane he longed for.
-
he sits at an uneasy 2 feet away from her, sideways. her bag is in between them. hm. he pauses, listening to the sound of the waves crashing onto the breakwater. its high-tide, he notices. its cloudy, he notices. the darn bag is in the way, he notices. he takes a deep breath, picks her bag up, places it onto her other side, and shifted himself next to her, reducing the 2 feet to 2cm. much better. a chain of events led to him hugging her from the back while leaning against a wooden pillar.
thoughts flooded his mind at this instant. he realises once again that this is not all there is to a relationship. no doubt, they were both adolescents, but thats hardly an excuse for irresponsible behaviour. a relationship, at any age, involves a commitment. think about it, even a young kid who owns a pet goldfish has a commitment to the little creature - he has to feed it, change the water in the tank, scrub the tank, et cetera. what happens most of the time? the young kid gets sick of his new toy, not realising that the little fishy is a living creature. what happens next? the fish dies of course. the kid may feel the pain, or he may not..
corny analogy. but thats what most adolescent relationships are about. each regarding his or her partner as a new fish, alacriously carrying out the required responsibilities. they live in blissful happiness till the day the infatuation wears out and they tire of each other. its sad but true. don't you think so?
this relationship will never end up this way, not if he can help it. he makes a silent commitment to the relationship, silent but strong. promises..promises he will fulfil.
-
the relationship grows well. there are times when he feels like a little kid's fish but well, things are still going fine. insecurity comes into every relationship, but shouldnt it be present in the girl most of the time? he shrugs mentally, continuing his observation of the ceiling in his room. hm maybe observation is the wrong word to use here; the room is dark and the ceiling is almost flawless..whats there to observe?
he has fallen completely in love with her and he knows it, at least in his current mentality it is love. it may not be really how true love is, but give him a break will ya? he's sixteen, how much does he know? he's happy, more or less, on the whole. he wants to grow with her, to mature together with her, to enter this savage garden together, the real world. 'growing old with you' .. how appropriate.
-

8 Days Ago:

I'm Shaun, the nice guy, the weak guy, the one trampled upon, the one who's clingy, needy and, adaptable(to use a euphemism) to the whims and desires of the girls I date. I'm still Shaun, but I've turned apostate, exchanged idealism for cynicism, embraced hedonism instead of faithfulness, and in the process, lost myself.

There's Black, there's White, and there's a whole spectrum of colors in between. I love being an oddity, a contrast. I've pulled off several roles, and now it seems I'm trying for the role of an Honest Asshole, or as honest as honest can be without appearing to be a total jerk.

What do you do when you find you aren't attracted to your partner? What happens when you know how awesome the person is but are simply not attracted? What happens when you realize this when you're 9,000km away but harbor hopes that the flame will re-ignite upon reunion? What happens when reunion, instead of sparking a bonfire, darkens the heart?

A better man will press on. A man better than myself.

One day God will slap me, and wake me up. Till that day, I will attempt to successfully indulge in hedonistic pleasures.

Today:

Tear your clothes and weep, kid, for instead of growing, you've descended into debauchery and exchanged wisdom for folly. The devil offers the world on a silver platter, and for mere potential you sold your soul. Just a little bit more, he cajoles, Heaven is forever, life is short. Jesus forgives all sins and washes them with his blood, turning your rotten soul white as snow. Even a little sin is unbearable in his sight, so what difference does it make how filthy your soul is upon repentance?

Quite a compelling argument. The danger lies though, in falling so far from the glory of God that he hardens your heart, and you never ever find it in your soul to confess and repent. So far down the road to ruin that inertia alone prevents salvation. In time you lose sight of God, and forget his voice. He still calls, but you no longer listen. If the world is your oyster, then hell is death by hepatitis.

This meeting is adjourned.

London

"Sitting cross-legged on slightly damp grass in the middle of a park with the Buckingham Palace on my left and endless streams of french speaking tourists strolling pass me on the pavement by the lake, I'm in London, the sun's in a cheery mood and there's a plesant breeze.

A distant clock chimed twelve; six more hours before I have to make my way back to the Underground and catch a train back to Heathrow airport for my flight back home. It's beautiful here, and many a time I don't want to leave. I want to work, study, bum around, do anything here. In fact, I love every city I've been to in my travels this exchange. Chicago, New York, Seattle, Vancouver, Montreal, Quebec, Toronto, heck, even Waterloo, I love them all. I love the weather, I soak in the smiles, the friendly faces, the new friends, the partying, the crazy flip cup game.

But I'm going home; to family and friends, people who love me and in whose hearts I've significance, it's where I belong. I am truely glad that I'll soon see familiar faces. The most beautiful sights in the world mean nothing if you've nobody to share them with.

So I'll enjoy my day in London, my first city in Europe, and pray that the next time I'm here it will be with people I love."

And so it begins again.

Today my conscience speaks, in a gentle whisper echoing from a dusty grave.

Mercy would have it be enough, but Karma wields a heavy hammer, and the barrage I will face will by no means be small, and by no means would I not deserve it.

If she's a spacecraft I'm unqualified to pilot, and this flak I get is for getting off, what will be in store for me should I continue piloting and crash into the Atlantic.