6 minute love story

I was in love. You hugged me at the airport and said nine months would pass, we would be together forever again. Was it what I heard, or what I had imagined I heard? Two months passed, work got busy. Three months passed, your exams were near your projects were draining. Four months passed, and days pass since my last message. Were you busy? I tried not to think about it, everyone needs their breathing space. Weeks pass between those green chat bubbles. What is going on? You're back. You're finally home, let's have coffee! I'm tired. How about the weekend then? Okay. We meet. You can't look me in the eyes when I say I missed you, you seem like you don't want to be here at all. Which food did you miss the most when you were away, let's go have that! Nothing much. How about bak chor mee? I'm full. We walk beside each other but the distance stretches forever. Let's walk along Marina Bay. My voice quivers because I can tell you just want to go home. It's time to go home. We are just outside the train gantry. I reach out and hold your arm. Please don't go. I hate people who cry in public. But I cry in public because I was not sure if I would ever see you again. Let's take a 2 weeks break, I need time to think about this, then I'll give you an answer. One day passes, two days pass, five days, then seven. I don't have to wait fourteen days before I get my answer. We were supposed to meet today. My boss calls me out for drinks instead, and I go. I postpone the inevitable. Eventually, we meet. We eat in silence I ask how your work has been. Busy. You seem slightly more animated, slightly more nervous, you sometimes smile but then you catch yourself. You get the bill and you say its my birthday treat. My birthday was two months ago. Then we take a long, long, long walk in silence. And then we are over. No, I never promised we would be together forever. Forever is a word that sixteen year old girls use when they are infatuated with the first handsome boy that pays attention to them. A song that I used to sing to you plays faintly in the bar behind. God has his torturous ways to make goodbye harder. And then, I never saw you again. I now have confirmation on what is going on. I think I feel relieved. I cry even more.

Two months pass. I meet someone abroad, and I fall in "love". I don't believe in love at first sight. Then I fall as quickly out of love. Others fall in love but I don't love them back. On some days I try to convince myself I love the freedom, I love the single life. On some days, I truly love the liberation. I use love more, in hopes that it will help. It doesn't. I need to learn how to be alone so that I can be independent. But some days the loneliness eats at me. Especially on days where I work past midnight.  Perhaps literally everytime someone has somewhere to rush to after work, has someone waiting downstairs to see. Don't worry, I'll take it from here, I'll help you handle it, see you tomorrow. Thanks man, I owe you one, bye! They smile at their phone all the way to the lift lobby. I am happy for them. I am slightly envious. I shouldn't be. 

Seven months pass. I think I love someone, genuinely. Its the start of May and I'm still writing about the things that happened half a year ago. I think I love someone. Do I?