It's been rad spending the last couple of days with my mum...she's been busily sewing all my outfits for work and made me start sorting through stuff I left behind before leaving for NZ. She's trying to de-clutter the house. :) So today I've been going through my old CDs, ripping the ones I want to keep and chucking out the rest. I also came across some old teeny-angsty love letters...oh boy, how embarassing are those! Hahaha, and extremely endearing as well of course.
So, I thought I'd share a little since I've kinda got it on the brain at the moment...
When I was about 5 or 6, my mum sent me to kindy. Problem was, I really hated being away from my family and our home and always kicked up such a tanty about going. I pretty much went to every kindy in our town, as mum thought I just hadn't found the right one. At one stage, I hated one so bad that I stood at the gate and cried the whole day. My body was so stressed that I gave myself a fever and the teacher actually had to call my mum to take me home. In other words, mission accomplished I thought. :) Alas, my mum didn't give up, but I finally got settled into a little Methodist kindy a few blocks down from us. It was there that I met him for the first time. We were best friends almost instantly and I had the biggest crush on him. I can still remember he had trouble with his Chinese writing and I used to help him, and he used to lend me his colour pencils. Our brains remember the weirdest things?!
Anyway, after kindy, I didn't hear from him again. I went through primary school still pretty infactuated with him as every once in a while I saw him in church. I never got to speak to him though until one day, I started attending a tuition class to prepare for some exams. He was there...I couldn't believe my luck. Even better still, he remembered me and came up to talk to me. So time sort of progressed, we were really good friends and I was busy trying to figure out whether he liked me at all and whether I should just tell him that i fancied him, but of course I thought if I told him and he didn't feel the same way, that was the friendship out the window...So, I never told him...
The day came when I finished my classes at the tuition centre and I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to him. I still saw him at church every once in a while but he never came up to me ever again. I'd smile and he'd look away...it was awful. By the time I bumped into him in college I was sure he hated me.
I was student body president in college...his class was downstairs and mine was upstairs. He would say something to his friends as they walked by me and my friends and they would all burst out laughing...I started hating him back.
Then something crazy happened, I was organizing the prom and we were auditioning for dancers to perform on the night...he came to audition. Really not the kind of thing he would do, being the staunch guy that he was. I couldn't really face him, I kept wondering why someone who hated me so much wanted to be around me when he didn't have to be. I was so weary...I thought he actually had a crush on my bestfriend...
So the prom came and went...and one day out of the blue I got a text from him. At first I didn't know it was him obviously but found out later on that he had grabbed my number of a classmate of mine. Who obviously got a right grilling the next day for giving my number away...He explained that he had wanted to speak to me but was too shy...so we communicated like that for a while...and I remember the first time we were at an event after we'd started texting. It was a soccer match between his class and mine...the boys were very competitive so I wasn't allowed to cheer for his team...but he smiled a lot at me that day...I still remember the butterfly swarm in my belly!
Then one day, I was at a party at my best friend's place and he'd been texting me. He finally asked if he could come get me and take me for a wee drive somewhere. I said okay, as long as I was back by a certain time etc. I was so nervous that I was actually going to spend time alone with him. He finally came in his jeep and I got in, all I could muster was a very shy hello. He just smiled. We drove in silence but I kept hearing a rattling sound in the back of the car. I must've looked a little worried that the car was going to fall apart or something cos he said...'don't worry, it's just my balls'...I looked at him and we both burst out laughing. I remembered that he played tennis, that sound was the tennis balls rolling around in the metal bucket they were in.
Haha...good times...silly times...we went out for a little while but it didn't last. I came across poetry he'd written for me, and I found the break-up letter I wrote. His parents had forbidden him from being with me on account of my race....I didn't want it to end, but he grew so distant and when I finally heard it through the college grapevine that he was planning on breaking up with me, I decided to beat him to the finish line. I often wonder what it is we're meant to learn from such experiences...any ideas?
68 tongues, 68 hearts.
1 year ago