Thursday, December 22, 2005

Dear Tae,

The moment our eyes met, I had to confess it was just like any other encounters that I had had. That first day of my trip, that first visit to the sauna on this trip, and that first venture into the maze during this sauna visit, it was all it took to lead me to you, didn’t matter how it all fell into place. Perhaps you have been standing there for time immemorial, or perhaps it was just fate.

The moment our lips met, I confess again it was just like any other kisses that I had had. Against the faint light of the lightly-scented private room, Christmas carols playing in the background and all, I grasped, in vain, for a piece of memory that would stood out, only to find them drown in a hundred and one similarly bland episodes of foreplay and climax. Perhaps it was just me, and my expectations, exhausted from the constant replays of hope and disappointments.

But you pushed further, beyond the four walls of the tiny, freezing room, beyond the obligatory brief hug before leaving the room and beyond the soaping session in the open showers. I was waiting to say “Take care and see you around” but the only time you left was to fetch me some drinks that were being served free from the dining area.

In the sofa area by the pool, I fought hard to keep your relentless spirit at bay, only to find my defenses unarmed and my protective shell stripped. Suddenly the other guys seemed to have lost their appeal, was that the moment our hearts met?

That night in DJ Station, it was the tenth time Madonna’s new track spinned. You held me in your arms and asked if you could see me again. I meant to say this was not how I had planned my 10-day trip, but did I just kiss you instead?

So the emotional chaos intensified out of proportion and to my dismay you became a permanent feature of my trip. On our way back from the Floating Market, you pulled me to rest my head on your laps in the van, as I looked up to your face I tried to focus on how you had carelessly swept your hair over your forehead, but caught sight of your dreamy eyes instead. When you rushed over from your office to meet me at MBK, I noted the sorry state of your shoes and your briefcase and thought I could not survive another look at that, but I also noted the drenched shirt and wet forehead from the run in the sun, and how your face broke into a smile when you saw me. At the local market where I accompanied you for lunch, I convinced myself I needed too much adjustment for us to appreciate the same things together, then you hummed me that recent Thai pop that had stucked to my head for many months.

I tried my best not to think of you, I think I tried to hard.

And so we found ourselves at the hotel lobby, the last day of my trip. I did not tell you my heart was aching for a farewell hug and kiss. (My Thai needs improving, I know.) You said “I miss me.” I think you really meant “I miss you.” It turned out to be the simplest and shortest of goodbyes, but I recalled the longest climb up the staircase to my hotel room. My last sight of you standing by the lobby entrance reluctant to leave, got played again and again in my head, and then my feet became increasingly heavy as I took yet another step upwards, yet another little distance further away from you, away from the memories of time spent with you, away from your eyes, your lips and your heart.

I heard it was colder than usual after I left, it rained quite abit here in KL too. This message that you sent me, I promise to keep it in my phone.

"The raining heavily there in kuala lumpur. It is cold here to bangkok. How far ? But i miss you."

Nevermind the English, I got you.

But where do we go from here?