Sunday, September 23, 2007

A Melbourne Day

A Melbourne day, fulfilling in its own way, you talked about work, your past boyfriends, your boss, yourself, I had Milo Kosong Ais, two glasses I think, couldn’t help but tell you you look adorable. You stood by the bus stop at the monorail station, waiting for me with your huge luggage, the one that you said you’ll use to pack me to Melbourne with you. You asked what you can cook for me, and set off to prepare the dishes enthusiastically, on that mindless cooking game on your Nintendo DS. I asked for your Fridae profile, not many photos in there, you acted awkward, yes I can tell your profile says you’re in a monogamous relationship, it’s fine coz I guess that doesn’t apply when you’re in saunas. It’s fine too, when I found out that you’ve gone to the saunas again before meeting up with me for dinner, you were 3 hours late, not a problem, I wasn’t hungry anyway, I don’t know why. That night we sat for a very long time in the car, you asked why I have stopped writing to you when we met three years back, I said it’s you who disappeared, and then you gave me a goodnight kiss. Along the busy ring road just outside the ERL transit of KL Sentral, you dragged your huge luggage out of the back seat, we hugged, hugged for the entire stretch of bumper-to-bumper traffic to see, seemed like a long one, most probably the last one I’ll ever get from you. You said I’ll come visit you in Hong Kong when you’re back there, share the room in your 600sq-ft apartment, you’ll bring me places. You stood there while I drove off, all the while looking my way, you promised you’ll call, your temporary Digi prepaid line won’t work there anymore, but you’ll call. But then you did not call, no call no sms no message in fridae. I checked my phone, my fridae account, my email, your blog, checked again and again. Maybe you were jetlagged (let’s pretend there is a time difference), maybe you couldn’t get online (but Fridae showed that you just logged on this morning). I’m puzzled, I just need one single message from you to thank me for our time together, you don’t have to say you miss me, certainly not love me, and it’s ok if we don’t meet again. Just a short thank you message to bring closure to this short-lived moment of happiness, but you have to deny me of this last piece of the puzzle, the crowning glory that will seal the few days we were together into eternal bliss.

I drove by the bus stop where I had fetched you this afternoon again, there was a painful void that just won’t not shut up. It screamed so loud it hurt. And then I dreamt of you again, we holding hands on a peaceful Melbourne day, and that was the last I will ever see of you.


Sunday, September 02, 2007

Confessions In The Dark Room

In the busy darkened corridor he pinned me against the wall, wrapped his arms around my waist in one graceful sweep and started running his tongue down my neck. In his fervor, his stubbles chafed the sides of my chin, leaving a trail of burning yet strangely gratifying pain.

“Shall we go to the room?” He broke the silence.

“I just want to hug like this, can I?” I tightened my grip around his body, closed my eyes and buried my face deep in his shoulders. The warmth of his body was arresting.

“You come all the way here just for hugs?” He protested.

“Yes I do.”


For many years, I wandered this forbidden territory in search of answers. Perhaps I will never be cured, of this permanent dysfunctional void in my heart, of the constantly painful craving for attention and affection and of all the different inane ways I go about to pursue them. I’m helpless against a torrent of emotional confusion, I can’t figure out what I want; and even more pathetic against the cruel reality of gay life, I will never get what I want.

Please let me know how to move on.


“Thanks for the hugs, you can go now.” I adjusted my towel and left for a cold shower.