Tomorrow

January 2nd, 2007

it’s almost 3 in the morning, and the last of the pubcrawlers are lingering in small groups on the sidewalk. to my left, big burly bouncers are rolling up the velvet ropes, and to my right, waiters in white shirts are wiping down tables and stacking up chairs. strains of chillout music slither like snakes out the frames of open doors.

the night breeze feels cool against my neck. ‘am i really red?’, i ask him, as i press the back of my hands to my cheeks. he kisses me, smiles and says, ‘nope’. but the twitch at the corner of his lips gives him away. i sigh as i slip my fingers through his. not much time before i have to leave him once again. this shit is difficult.

as we walk along the street back to the car, a slightly overweight buxom blonde hurtles down the stairs of this new club, almost knocking us over. from the way she is walking and the way her eyes are unfocused, it is obvious she is drunk. ‘whoooops, sorrrrrry!’ she slurs. the smell of vomit is unmistakable as she pushes past us.

‘wow,’ he says.

frowning, i smack him. ’stop looking at her tits! mine are the only ones you can look at!’

he laughs and pulls me close. we stop to kiss; a long, soft, slow kiss. moments like these are what i replay over and over again in my head when i’m there and he’s here. moments like these are what i long for as we’re Skyping, or when i’m texting him from my bed, or when i’m on the flight heading back home. moments like these are what make it all worth fighting for.

i open my eyes and catch sight of the new club the drunk blonde had come out from. of course we had to stop at this very spot. i feel a secret smile creep up upon my lips. ‘what?’ he mumbles against my smile, still kissing me.

turning him around, i show him the club. ‘remember the italian japanese place that used to be here?’

‘yeah. mezza notte.’

‘ever ate there?’

‘no.. i hear the food wasnt that great. maybe that’s why it closed down.’

indignantly, i say, ‘oi! it was nice lah. i remember they had this warm chocolate cake that was soooooo good.. they served it with honey ice cream summore. hey you know, i’m sad they shut the place down. it was special to me.’

‘why?’

i was waiting there alone, kicking myself because i had forgotten to bring the card. in the card was to be everything i wanted to say but never did, all the stuff i didnt dare talk about. oh well. email will have to do, i thought, as i adjusted my skirt. my skirt.. my zara denim pleated skirt, paired with my black vneck pullover. i wondered if he would notice that i was wearing the exact same thing i was wearing the day we first met. one year and four months ago at coffee bean, mont kiara. i even managed to find the same denim bag i was using that day.

but then he walked in. and he smiled that smile.. that irresistible mont kiara morning grey jumper smile. and all i could feel was excitement. love. i wanted to throw my arms around his neck, pout and plead, ‘carry meeeee!’. but i didnt. i just smiled back. we kissed, said our hellos. and then he pulled back, looked me over and said, hey.. you’re wearing what you wore that day.

‘..mm. it just is lah.’

we walked back to the car in a comfortable silence. ‘do you love me?’ i ask suddenly.

Entry Filed under: Unsent Letters