Restructure- on your own terms

"Why am I telling you this.."
was what I said to him on Sunday. I eyed him askance as he laid next to me.

It was a strangely liberating feeling.

Because it felt so natural, like I knew he wouldn’t judge me. Like how a good friend would be- being there to listen or take your misgivings as it is without imposing his or her strong views because he or she is sensitive to your vulnerability.

I told him how my errant ways began. I even mentioned to him several times that I love DL despite everything I am. I sensed he understood because he too is a sentimentally troubled soul.

It was him who first started talking and offering snippets of his life between intervals of our intimacy.

He showed no curiosity of what I am made of (though he did mentioned that he would like my blog address to find out a bit more about me upon learning that I love blogging) and took in whatever information I would proffer him. He was not too inquisitive for my uneasiness with a stranger.

He mentioned about the long- term girlfriend who left him for the married man, not without self-pity but rather factually. Maybe to make me feel a little better of how screwed up I feel about my romantic life.

Then there was also the current on-again and off-again girlfriend that he is still trying to work things out with. Prior, they had an impossible long distance relationship while he worked in Outer Mongolia.

“You know about the story of Dr. Jekyll & Hyde?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“ Harry says that I am somewhat a little like that. I tend to be quiet and shy when I am sober but when I am drunk, I talk so much and chat up to girls. I become very different. Like Dr. Jekyll & Hyde…”

I like looking into his eyes, touching his face and rubbing noses with him. It’s a comfortably friendly and part sensuous feeling that I have yet to experience with another man. Like I enjoyed his intimacy but I make no real self-conscious attempt at impressing him with my outer appearance. It feels natural.

When I looked at my watch 45minutes into our joint moment to ensure that I do not go past the limit of my schedule to return home, he hugged me tight from behind and protested vehemently.

I quite enjoy the way he kisses me, my neck, the stomach and down south where he savours away at my sex with so much indulgence while his finger simultaneously did its magic. Despite the smell of tobacco and booze in his hair, breath and scent betraying his having had a big night out prior, I like being close and intimate with him, allowing the usually deemed unattractive smell to mingle and leave a mark on my scent and body.

At some stage on our first day at his place, I looked up and saw a huge picture frame on the wall. I later asked him about the girl in the picture while he waited with me for my cab and he mentioned it was his ex-girlfriend of three years ago. He just never got down to removing that picture. I laughed and said me too, the picture of a photo of an ex-boyfriend of ten years ago still sits at my bedside in Singapore. Every time, I stepped into that room, I feel myself transported to the time of my youth where I was a precocious teenager with that Alicia Silverstone character in “Clueless”. That was the happiest time in my entire life…

On Sunday, I noticed that picture frame of the wall was gone. I said nothing.

“I wonder what happened to your necklace…” he wondered aloud in bed.

His tone was endearing.

I tried to divert the topic away because I was still feeling the pinch of losing my beautiful Fendi necklace I bought as a small luxury in my semi-struggling days.

Then he continued.

“Do you realize my room is neater today?”

I looked around and nodded.

"Yeah, I decided to tidy up and look for it in case you lost your necklace here..."

“Oh… that’s sweet.” I was coy.

I didn't think he cared. When he texted me that he rang up the Balcony (after repeating to him several times that he must do that for me before we parted) and they found nothing, I thought he meant to pay me lip service to placate me. So I tried to move on in my head regarding my fob chain designer necklace.

" Also, I took down the picture because I remember you mentioned about it..."

We continued talking about other things.

At some stage, I looked at his palm. I have never seen lines like his. There was a fourth line on above his heart line that went parallel to it, albeit a little shorter. I was bewildered since I have a fascination for palm-reading.

" A fortune teller once told me that I would have two whole families."

So he would end up a bigamist. A sentimental fellow and a classic lover with too many hearts, I was reminded of Anais Nin.

“I am told that I am emotionally disturbed. Look at the number of breaks on my love line. I am supposed to have many lovers. But I have already been told by many fortune tellers and clairvoyants, from Chinese to Indian to Caucasian that I would marry once and it would last…”

I opened my palm and he studied it for awhile.

“So I am one of these lines.” He looked at me smilingly and then he pulled me closer and kissed me.

At some stage, we also began sharing amusing sexcapade stories. He mentioned about the morning he found himself awake in his neighbour’s (a British lass) abode during his time living in a service apartment in Mongolia. Then there was also the funny story of him acting as mediator for his friend and his quarrelling sister. That night, he ended in bed with her.

I told him briefly about the worst sex experience and the best sex experience, both men being French. I quoted W’s embarrassment for cumming too quickly that I find amusing (I seemed to have experienced this quite a number of times with men unfortunately)…

We both agree that we like sleeping with Caucasians and I told him I haven’t slept with that many Asians for a reason (maybe my need to distinct DL from the rest as he is Asian). I told him how many and admitted that I probably haven’t got as many carnal experiences as he did. He laughed and thought I was lying.

I asked him what happened. I know he was a very sentimental person from Harry who has long mentioned about this particular friend to me years before I finally met him at Velvet on Friday. He said, don’t know. Perhaps after having been taken for granted by each and then having relocated to Mongolia, it just changed him.

Paris changed me too, I told him. Or was it Cuba? Anyway, I told him the story of my life that opened up my Pandora’s box. He was first thoughtful and then shocked and exclaimed, “What?” But then he resumed his tone and said he understood how things could never be the same for me again.

I casually asked if he had thought about going for a sex health check. This is a peculiarly sensitive question to ask but I felt so comfortable and so I did.

He mentioned that he thought about it but no he hasn’t and qualified that he always used protection. But still, I said. I told him I did once because I was just so paranoid and I thought about DL.

I also mentioned about M, the boy that I think I could have been so in love with. But M found out about my long-term relationship with DL when he visited Singapore last year and I guess what can one do but to learn to let go and move onwards? The world don’t exist to wait for me…

We even took some time to understand what we both do in our jobs. He gave me a quick outline of his duties as a tobacco Marketing professional and told me why he had decided to return back home. The day before, I described what I do as a junior headhunter when he asked.

Spending much time to get to know each other as we lie down in bed, I was so warming up to him. I figured it would be a pity if he wasn’t granted full access to my body. So I told him about my story of “The Respectful Murderer” because I thought him worthy to catch a glimpse of my soul, my carnal philosophy and I mildly suspect he could perhaps empathise with the two main characters. He found the story interesting and urged that it should be written down someday.

I felt really comfortable with him and was fast warming up to him. In between our talks, we would turn up a notch of each other’s heat, I would sometimes climb on top of him and rub myself against him, his erected cock all ready to impale onto my private passage way of my butt naked body. In his aroused state, he muttered desirously that he so wanted me and in my mind, I thought ditto but thought the wiser not to succumb to further temptation. This is a man who has strong potential of breaking my heart with his current ways if I yield myself to him. Already, I had broken my rules and bent backwards for him by stretching my promise to my mum and V to be home in time to pack and have dinner. In fact, I promised V that I won’t see him unless he made the effort to drive to the East to see me since he texted me several times in the morning that he was drunk, he wants me to see him and he was sorry he just woke up.

I looked at him several times and he asked what I was looking at. There are times I feel myself growing shy and turning away.

He has a number of pictures on his wall- him and his hockey team, his friends and him at the opening night of Café Del Mar (I told him I was there too actually). I thought it must be telling of his character. He even painted his room blue (3 cans of paint he used, he told me). I told him I never keep any photos in my room now or even when I first left for overseas, I brought none with me.

" How come?"

“I don’t know. I just don’t. Leave no evidence, I guess. Maybe I cannot be bothered.”

On Sunday, whenever he mentioned anything remotely affectionate or sweet, I grew cautious as I felt I was fast falling in like with him, I would asked him flirtatiously, “Jekyll or Hyde way?”

Mostly, it was Hyde way. Well, there sure is an element of truth in it.

He seemed quite lost in pleasure whenever I gave him some.

He did asked me if I would miss him. I looked at him, sighed and say yes. But like him, my yes was apprehensive. I wished not to be too aware of it lest I form too much attachment to something quite futile.

I told him to come visit if he liked. He asked if I would take care of him if I did. I said yes.

"Do you mean Jekyll or Hyde way?" I teased playfully.

"Hyde way," he hugged me tight and laughed.

I pouted and he quickly added, "Both ways..."

Then he resumed a semi-serious tone and said, " I've never been to Australia, by the way."

"Well, then this is the time for you to come, to visit me," I replied coyly.

"Besides, DL don't live with me anymore. He lives inter-state."

He nodded. "After six months, when my job probabtion is over."

I also do remotely remember him asking me if I would forget him. I’m quite sure that he asked me that. I said pensively that I am a person who would never forget; maybe that is why I am ever so sentimental.

“24^th August right?” I turned and brightened up, a mischievous sparkle in my eyes as I turned to eye him.

“Your grandmother’s birthday right?” he served me back playfully.

“Yeah.” I nodded back in conspiracy.

It is his birthday.

“I don’t know how you…” he voice trailed off and gratefully he hugged me tight and kissed me.

At some stage, we tried recalling how we got hooked up for that night. He said he remembered the whole sequence but the alcohol really hit him when we caught a cab back to his place.

Rather carefully and sheepishly, he continued.

“…but one thing I still cannot remember is how I managed to get you to come to my house.”

“No, you didn’t. It was me who suggested it. I asked you if you wanted me to spend more time with you before my 12.30pm appointment. You said yes, so I said I’ll go to your house to sleep and later cab it to Siglap. I even asked if your parents were around. If so, I wouldn’t go because it’s not nice…”

“Oh, I see…”

"So you didn't remember anything when we got home?"

“Yes I did.” He protested.

So we continued to recall the sequence and then it was his turn to test me.

"Do you remember what we did?"

“What?”

“Oh, so you don’t remember?”

I grew wary and was fast trying to re-call if I have done the ultimate deed that I shouldn’t have done.

"You really don't?"

“Well, I remember you gave me water when I got to your place… I took a pee and we went to your room…”

“Then?”

“Then you gave me your shorts to change into. I told you to get out of the room while I undressed and you complied and then I opened the door and you came in…”

“Ah huh. And then?”

“I climbed into your bed to sleep.”

“You really don’t remember?” He looked straight into my eyes.

“Oh, did we …ah, like do something?” I was beginning to get horrified. Horrified because I am known for my superb memory and to not have the least fragment of memory if I had committed a carnal act must have been my ultimate fall from grace.

He nodded lightly and added, “You really don’t remember?”

“No.” This time I was petrified. I searched his face for clues encouragingly.

"You said.."

“I said what?”

“No sex.”

Anti-climax.

I heaved a sigh of relief.

He gave a little mischievous grin.

I hit him lightly.

" You scared me! I thought I completely lost it! You naughty boy!"

“Yeah, I meant to scare you! Ha, ha!”

Then we kissed again and I looked at him affectionately. I kind of like his humour. I’m like this too.

Towards the end of our rendezvous, my phone couldn’t stop ringing and the smses kept coming in. It was from home and V. They wanted to know where I was and I was given numerous warning to get home ASAP.

He asked why am I not picking up my calls.

“Because I’ll get into the trouble- from mum and from V. I am supposed to be home by now. See the things I do for you to see you..”

“Besides if V knows that I am with you, I’ll be in big trouble.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I hesitated.

“Because?”

“Because you’re not that into me… you didn’t even come to Bellini’s last night knowing full well that it was my last night. Then today, I had to cab all the way to come spend time with you…”

He had earlier admitted to me that he was chatting up some girls that night before (“Well, you asked me first…” he said candidly.)

He looked somewhat uncomfortable and perhaps thrown off guard.

We were both back on the bed. He was on top of me.

I wish you would fancy me a little more, the Jekyll way..."

“I can’t now. Guess I'm more Hyde these days. I don’t know- I’m like that with people.”

“Why? But you were a sentimental guy before.”

“Precisely so. I don’t want to be so now. I guess it is self-preservation...”

“But then, you would lose your soul…”

He shrugged his shoulders.

Before we got up to leave the room, he looked at me.

“Thanks for coming, really.” He looked at me gratefully.

“As long as I made you happy, even for a bit. Because you did make me happy.” I smiled coyly.

****

The last I saw him was that last Sunday before I was due to depart my homeland late that night. He saw me off into my cab and we parted.

I never hear from him again. I have since texted him three times.

No reply each time.

I have exhausted my three attempts and anymore, I’ll be a fool.

So I guess V is right about his type as I have known right from the start without her having to knock any sense into me.

This is the type of guy who goes for convenience. He’ll always pick a new girl each weekend. Maybe not necessarily take them home.

Troubled soul. I should know better.

Besides, he’s trying to work things out with his on again and off again girlfriend.

So let this be preserved as yet another joint memory with someone whom I enjoyed a briefly romantic but yet soulfully refreshing moment with…