Sunday, March 19, 2006
The Aura
Quite recently, someone posed a question to P- on when was the last time that she fell head over heels in love?
She mentioned about M. Well, in hindsight, that seemed partly true. But M would not have come about if not for her loss of "The Aura". It was a case of timing, really.
In her earlier blog, she mentioned about her attraction to a person's aura. A certain French man whom she would call "The Aura" happened to possess this quality in him, and have invoked within her a strong sense of natural attraction when she first set her eyes on him. Even the sound of his name ringed with the word "aura".
****
Life is funny sometimes. The best things in life often creep into one's life as a form of a pleasant surprise and rather spontaneously.
That night, it must have been what she had come closest to experiencing the spontaneous romantic love that she had been searching for.
She was not looking for anything. Just being bored stiff, nursing a bruised ego and passing her time away drinking.
Their attraction was mutual. But it took him more than an hour before he finally took courage to come over.
In his heavily French accented English (and he speaks four languages; she always go for a linguist and a seasoned traveller with a good sense of adventure), they started talking. Quite easily.
Just like in the movies, they kissed quite naturally at the right cue as they sat across the table. Except, there was no maneouvering on anyone's part. He was a stranger who had no consequence to her life the hour before. It just happened. She went with the flow.
The best moments in life seeks to be defined by whimsical and fleeting glimpses of what bliss might turn out to be.
****
Then quite abruptly, he decided that they should stop keeping in touch. So she lost him.
She never quite understood and her heart ached. This attraction to one's " aura" has occurred once when she was eighteen to a guy, six years older and whom has been the muse to her many poems. But never again since. That spontaneity of attraction was now rekindled by "the aura".
Then M came along aptly and distracted her heart for a while (the presence of "the aura" still resurfacing at the back of her mind but she took care to surpress her pain lest she sank deep into depression). Nonetheless, he too managed to take a stab at her heart before he left and re-appeared a year later, only to wrench it before he departed yet again.
****
Re-enter "the aura". He suddenly came back into her life again. She was due to leave la ville de l'amour the following week.
So they met up. Like the irreplaceable chemistry her instincts told her that they share on that fateful night they met, he made the best lover she could ever have. He far exceeded her expectations in many ways. The appeal was reciprocated on her own terms, just like how she had always wanted it to be. Except she didn't engineer the scheme of things. They fell into place. Spot on.
A rarerity and the best gift one could be bestowed on by the stranger lover. Thank you for the memory.
She thinks she could have fallen head over heels for him. Give up everything and move to France. Be reckless, and be bold like how she felt when she was eighteen. Be the fearless warrior who would tread bravely on the land mines of love. Forget about grand plans and strategies. Stop thinking and start indulging.
Despite everything, she was never blind to his flaws and spotted them right from the start.
She wondered if her passion and her acceptance of him must be love.
She wanted to stop playing the cards close to her heart. Let her be restless and be in love again. Not just being loved and loving. She knows she has been scarred many times over but her weary soul will take the plunge just once more because that is probably the moment that she has always live for.
To love shamelessly and wholeheartedly.
****
"I never thought I would see my most beautiful Frenchman again. My funny boy."
"When I read your message, I know you are a fidelite person," he said.
"Well, you really broke my heart," she said.
****
"Will I see you again this week?"
"Of course."
So again, she allowed him the opportunity to run his knife across her heart. One more time.
****
She grew up having a strong affinity to the tune of La vie en rose. She never knew why.
For the rest of her life now, she would never be able to listen to this French number without evoking memories of her secret life.
The night she found the connection with her all French funny boy, in a French apartment to a French tune while she indulged in a night of passion, whispering "Je'taime beaucoup, beaucoup, beaucoup" in her semi-tipsy dream-like state...
****
We may never, never meet again on this bumpy road to love.
Still I'll always, always keep the memory of.
The way you haunt my dreams.
The way we danced till three.
The way you changed my life.
No, no they can't take that away from me.
No, they can't take that away from me...
****
Dope sort off reminds her of "The Aura". They both possess the same privateness and obsession in domestic cleanliness. They are both fire signs and they both have a younger sister. In fact, they both have a burgundy coloured couch in their bachelor's pad. The same ambitions and drive in academic and career excellence. Similar degrees of aloofness and the uncanny resemblances in their non-committal kisses.
The only missing element is spontaneity. She met Dope six years ago. And they have barely started.
He lacked fiery passion. His retraint- a double edged sword. It served to fire her restlessness and to quell it.
With time stalled, she took comfort in pefecting her game- where her hardened mind now took care to shield her heart from that suffering called dukka. As she timed herself on how far their snail paced arrangement would take them before fate and circumstances would have it that they break away from the other...
Quite recently, someone posed a question to P- on when was the last time that she fell head over heels in love?
She mentioned about M. Well, in hindsight, that seemed partly true. But M would not have come about if not for her loss of "The Aura". It was a case of timing, really.
In her earlier blog, she mentioned about her attraction to a person's aura. A certain French man whom she would call "The Aura" happened to possess this quality in him, and have invoked within her a strong sense of natural attraction when she first set her eyes on him. Even the sound of his name ringed with the word "aura".
****
Life is funny sometimes. The best things in life often creep into one's life as a form of a pleasant surprise and rather spontaneously.
That night, it must have been what she had come closest to experiencing the spontaneous romantic love that she had been searching for.
She was not looking for anything. Just being bored stiff, nursing a bruised ego and passing her time away drinking.
Their attraction was mutual. But it took him more than an hour before he finally took courage to come over.
In his heavily French accented English (and he speaks four languages; she always go for a linguist and a seasoned traveller with a good sense of adventure), they started talking. Quite easily.
Just like in the movies, they kissed quite naturally at the right cue as they sat across the table. Except, there was no maneouvering on anyone's part. He was a stranger who had no consequence to her life the hour before. It just happened. She went with the flow.
The best moments in life seeks to be defined by whimsical and fleeting glimpses of what bliss might turn out to be.
****
Then quite abruptly, he decided that they should stop keeping in touch. So she lost him.
She never quite understood and her heart ached. This attraction to one's " aura" has occurred once when she was eighteen to a guy, six years older and whom has been the muse to her many poems. But never again since. That spontaneity of attraction was now rekindled by "the aura".
Then M came along aptly and distracted her heart for a while (the presence of "the aura" still resurfacing at the back of her mind but she took care to surpress her pain lest she sank deep into depression). Nonetheless, he too managed to take a stab at her heart before he left and re-appeared a year later, only to wrench it before he departed yet again.
****
Re-enter "the aura". He suddenly came back into her life again. She was due to leave la ville de l'amour the following week.
So they met up. Like the irreplaceable chemistry her instincts told her that they share on that fateful night they met, he made the best lover she could ever have. He far exceeded her expectations in many ways. The appeal was reciprocated on her own terms, just like how she had always wanted it to be. Except she didn't engineer the scheme of things. They fell into place. Spot on.
A rarerity and the best gift one could be bestowed on by the stranger lover. Thank you for the memory.
She thinks she could have fallen head over heels for him. Give up everything and move to France. Be reckless, and be bold like how she felt when she was eighteen. Be the fearless warrior who would tread bravely on the land mines of love. Forget about grand plans and strategies. Stop thinking and start indulging.
Despite everything, she was never blind to his flaws and spotted them right from the start.
She wondered if her passion and her acceptance of him must be love.
She wanted to stop playing the cards close to her heart. Let her be restless and be in love again. Not just being loved and loving. She knows she has been scarred many times over but her weary soul will take the plunge just once more because that is probably the moment that she has always live for.
To love shamelessly and wholeheartedly.
****
"I never thought I would see my most beautiful Frenchman again. My funny boy."
"When I read your message, I know you are a fidelite person," he said.
"Well, you really broke my heart," she said.
****
"Will I see you again this week?"
"Of course."
So again, she allowed him the opportunity to run his knife across her heart. One more time.
****
She grew up having a strong affinity to the tune of La vie en rose. She never knew why.
For the rest of her life now, she would never be able to listen to this French number without evoking memories of her secret life.
The night she found the connection with her all French funny boy, in a French apartment to a French tune while she indulged in a night of passion, whispering "Je'taime beaucoup, beaucoup, beaucoup" in her semi-tipsy dream-like state...
****
We may never, never meet again on this bumpy road to love.
Still I'll always, always keep the memory of.
The way you haunt my dreams.
The way we danced till three.
The way you changed my life.
No, no they can't take that away from me.
No, they can't take that away from me...
****
Dope sort off reminds her of "The Aura". They both possess the same privateness and obsession in domestic cleanliness. They are both fire signs and they both have a younger sister. In fact, they both have a burgundy coloured couch in their bachelor's pad. The same ambitions and drive in academic and career excellence. Similar degrees of aloofness and the uncanny resemblances in their non-committal kisses.
The only missing element is spontaneity. She met Dope six years ago. And they have barely started.
He lacked fiery passion. His retraint- a double edged sword. It served to fire her restlessness and to quell it.
With time stalled, she took comfort in pefecting her game- where her hardened mind now took care to shield her heart from that suffering called dukka. As she timed herself on how far their snail paced arrangement would take them before fate and circumstances would have it that they break away from the other...
