Monday, September 29, 2008
Ballatine
(Sequel to “New Play”)
“Ballatine”- this Singaporean neighbourhood and I have a clandestine affinity.
The locale first made its debut in enhancing my Singapore geographic knowledge when the Old Boy and I found ourselves frequenting a particular Hotel 81 in that vicinity. “Ballatine” thus became our very first secret code word for our appointed haunt where we spent many a late afternoon and evening rendezvous-ing.
*****
On a Thursday the week before I left for Nepal, the Old Boy texted to say that he was leaving for Malaysia with the domestics and wouldn't be in touch until I return from my grand trip 39 days later. In the text, the Old Boy said dear please take care ok. I was resigned to my fate and decided that it was probably for the best to prep me from forgetting him leading up to my trip of major self-reconstruction.
That evening, coincidentally, Big M suggested meeting up but late unfortunately due to work.
Anything but me being surrounded by my agonising thoughts would go in the late of night. Yes, that was fine I said since I am a lady of the night.
*****
“Would you like to check out my new place?” Big M asked as he was driving.
“Sure, why not?” I replied.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I love to check out new houses and apartments.”
I soon learnt that Big M has bought a penthouse in the vicinity “Ballatine”.
*****
We swiped his card and the automated gate opened before us. It was a new block of about thirty apartments that has yet to be inhibited by its occupants.
We took a lift up to the seventeenth storey. The door opened to Big M's apartment. In the dark since he has yet to install lights to his apartment, he took me on a grand tour around his place.
*****
I was soon to learn that Big M and his wife have bought two penthouses one on top of the other. The engineers were in the midst of building a staircase to connect the two apartments to become a two-storey abode. Interior planning by designers are also underway to turn this luxurious living space into quality and gracious living where dinner parties with the view of the city skyline will be entertained. I inquired politely if his Singaporean Chinese wife had also educated him with the importance of incorporating feng shui into the layout planning. Yes, that would also be taken care off by the interior decorators, he said.
Big M first led me to the balcony where we took in the expansive view of the skyline ahead of us.His hand guided me lightly by my waist and slowly began to wrap itself around me. I quickly walked ahead of him and continued onwards to explore the other areas of the house and found myself mesmerised in the vast living space and was mentally labouring over the interior decoration potential of the apartment. The apartments were definitely an interior designer's dream playground. I got excited and started suggesting ideas of what he could do with the place. He began to indulge me and further asked me a few more questions for suggestion of how he could make minor changes to some parts of the place.
At one stage, I checked out a bathroom and as I stared out the window, I noticed that in the opposite building, we could make out the translucent full body silhouette of a lady showering in her penthouse.
“Your penthouse certainly have a view,” I said tongue-in-cheek.
Big M took a double take and suddenly became aware of what my comment meant.
“Ah indeed!” We laughed.
We continued roaming the kitchen.
“Would you come here again if I invited you?” Big M eyed me keenly.
“Yes of course, when you invite me for your house warming party when the house is done, I'll definitely come. Why not?” I replied casually (and definitely innocently).
Throughout this “open house” inspection, Big M asked me the same question over a few times, seeminingly searching for some affirmation that I wasn't being alert to.
But as seconds began ticking by, I slowly became aware of the situation I have unwittingly led myself in.
As we sojourned to another mini balcony and I stood by the railings checking out the roof above, I found Big M standing behind me, his right hand stroking my waist and felt his left fingers doing the talking, lifting my black dress lightly, moving wantonly underneath it and feeling up my ass.
I pulled his hand away and turned to stare at him.
“Don't do this!”
Big M's withdrawn hand returned to my waist. He cocked his head to one side, reached over and kissed me lightly on one cheek.
We continued our grand tour of his not-so-humble abode. There was a room reserved specially for his parents who come to visit often enough. We travelled up to the topmost level via a private lift.Another one of the rooms with a view in the corner was about to be converted into a walk-in wardrobe to store the precious fashion apparel of Big M and his wife. The wall between this room and the next adjoining room was to be knocked down to become the master bedroom.
Big M and I then moved on to the vast balcony where he told me where they were going to build a barbecue area in one corner. He was a typical Aussie bloke, I told. What's an Aussie without a barbe? He asked if he should put two big tables to fill up the massive space he had. No way, this is not a Chinese restaurant, I joked. I suggested putting a long outdoor dining table out here- it would be good when he hosts dinner parties. There should be enough space for the waiting staff to walk around and I started playing the waitress role and walked around an imaginary table to serve plates. Ah how very natural, he said eyeing me.
On one side of the wall, there was a water feature with blue mosaic tiles. Big M said the interior decorators are ripping them off. What do you suggest I do? Oh, how about putting a shower head here agaimst a backdrop of autumn brown and camel shades of tiles instead to give a zen, contemporary feel. Maybe you should build a swimming pool here, I added excited at my own vision at interior decoration.
Big M looked at me and said, oh yes we do have a pool. He led me carefully round the right corner of the wall that led to a further area than I have noticed . I found myself staring at a slim contemporary looking reflective pool. You like, he asked cautiously, looking into my eyes which I thought was a self conscious attempt to make sure he had somewhat made a good enough impression . Yes, it's awesome. Very impressed, I replied in my usual half-mocking tone.
I stood at the edge of the balcony to take in the view of the world ahead of us. Big M stood behind me and started hugging me. He tried lifting my dress up again. I pulled his hand away.
“Why not?” He whispered softly into my ear, all hot and bothered.
“Cos you didn't ask for permission...”
“Can I kiss you then?” Big M spoke breathlessly.
He turned me to him and drew my face towards his and inserted his tongue into my mouth.
Anything to forget about my pain with the Old Boy....
Big M started pushing me gently and pinned me lightly against the wall next to the pool. I felt the hard throb of his manhood against me. I rubbed myself against him, one of his thigh between my legs. His breath quickened and he moaned softly.
Lightly lifting up my dress, he watched me lustily and whispered in his breathless tone if he could please have a look at what was underneath my dress.
I watched him seductively.
Part of me felt detached as I was pinned against the wall, like I was a third person watching a man in heat. I wasn't really there.
Big M gasped lustily as he stared at my black lolita-eque polka dotted netted panties with pink girlish ribbons. He attempted to touch my pussy.
“See, no touch,” I teased.
“Okay, okay...” Big M uttered those words pantingly and desirously.
The loose spaghetti straps started sliding off my shoulders exposing my black bra.
“Oh my god...” Big M sounded like he was going to have a cardiac arrest.
I laughed mockingly.
Big M reached out his hand and attempted to touch the bra cups.
“Don't you touch my breasts.” My tone hardened defensively.
“Oh sexy, it's just the outside...”
“No.”
“Okay, okay, I won't...” Big M stood admiring them lustily like a salivating bulldog.
Big M then flipped me to face the wall and lifted my dress once more caressing my ass. Between oohing and aahing gaspingly, he confessed how much he loved my ass and began thrusting himself at me. All this while, my left fingers were still gripping on to my black handbag.
I found myself feeling bored and decided to turn towards him lightly brushing my hands past his engorged beast waiting to do a jack-in-a-box spring out of his trousers.I pulled him against me and our tongues interacted for at least a good minute or so.
Clumsily and lustfully, Big M began unzipping himself. Then he guarded my hand to feel his erected dick, his half suffering expression so lost in carnal desire pleaded me to wank the hell out of him.
With the sinister of my hand still holding onto his bag, I had the spare use of my right. I masturbated the overly excited Big M whom at this stage looked like he was going to either become a case of heart attack on me or explode his cum all over my black terry towelling dress. Both were equally undesirable outcomes given that my astute mother does my laundry and the latter option might well be a death knell to my late night social life from thereon (yes, I am almost 30 but household protocol still rules!).
With the quickening of his breath, I knew that Big M was climaxing to the point of no return. In a way, I wanted to get it over and done with. The “third person” in me felt like I was a paid worker being procured for physical pleasures. My soul bordered on being detached and slightly amused.
“Don't shoot on my dress.” I commanded at the height of his breathlessness. “My mum does my laundry.”
“Ok, Ok...” His voice thrilled off. He was so gone.
“Ahhh...” Big M finally relieved of himself. When he cummed, he attempted aiming at the wall. My right hand was soaked with the white stuff. He was definitely a virile man. Part of the cum hit my newly bought slippers and I was definitely getting a little put off at the marring of my new footwear and the contact of cum with my feet.
I reached into my handbag and got tissues out for us. I gave him one to wipe himself and I began wiping my soiled fingers and then reached down to clean my stained right feet.
Big M pulled me to him again and kissed me.
I obliged for a bit and then retreated.
“Let's go.” I decided for us.
As we walked around the edge of the pool, I bent down and swinged my right hand playfully in the water to wash away the remnants of cum.
“Now your pool is filled with your cum.” I teased and gave him a half smile. Privately, I amused myself with the thought of Big M and his wife having a dip in the tainted pool.
Big M looked at me searchingly, a little surprised like I had made a shocking or overly bold statement of sorts.
“That was soooo good... Did you enjoy it too?”
“It's okay. Wanking is not quite my specialty.”
“So what is?By the way, I was told I am great in giving cunninglingus...” Big M eyed me suggestively, hoping that this would eventuate into yet another proposition to take place at a different part of the penthouse.
“Ahh... that also happens to be my specialty...” In the dark, I gave Big M a cheeky half smile.
“So you don't enjoy wanking?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“Cos' it's tiring to my hand.” I replied matter-of-factly.
Big M was slightly taken aback by my candidness.
“Let's go now. After you have enough of your fun, it's my turn now. I need a drink.”
So we left the apartment despite his initial desire to prolong our rendezvous there.
Quietly, I noted that Big M was married no more than six months at that stage with an unrenovated home that was eventually going to undergo a major facelift for it to be more “live-able” for these highly powered successful pair and which was to epitomise the domestic bliss of their “picture perfect” life. But bringing another woman home with the intention to rendezvous in this barely finished home, that appeared to be jinx-ing the eternal marital vows. Call me superstitious but then again, there is also an element of logic there.
I am also of the belief one doesn't shit where one eats.
*****
We headed to town for a drink. No more than a hundred metres from Big M's apartment block, we drove past a Hotel 81 and noticed that it was there that the Old Boy and I used to spend many an afternoon rendezvousing, making sweet and passionate love.
I felt my heart squeeze once more, remembering that the Old Boy had bid his farewell that morning and the angst that I felt of the inevitable change that might result from my grand pilgrimage to Nepal in one week's time. The emotional conflict of having to let go and the inability to let go. What if I did let go after 39 days or what if I haven't let go after 39 days? I feared the change which ironically could give me that last glimmer of hope to dispel my suffering but I wasn't ready to let go. I couldn't. However, the latter outcome also instilled anxiety because it also meant that I have become a lost cause. It would just become an expensive and unfulfilled exercise.
I took a deep breath and another quick look at the Hotel 81 in “Ballatine”. Then I turned my head straight ahead to try focusing on the road ahead of us.
*****
Well, so now “Ballatine”, a hitherto unfamiliar suburb to my limited exposure of Singapore geography in the other side of town, will forever form an imprint in my memory of cladestine outings.
How about a rendezvous in “Ballatine”? The penthouse or Hotel 81, if someone were to proposition me now.
I will take Hotel 81 with the haunting memories of the Old Boy and I.
Anytime. Without a shadow of doubt.
Oh, give me “Ballatine” like the old days once more.
(Sequel to “New Play”)
“Ballatine”- this Singaporean neighbourhood and I have a clandestine affinity.
The locale first made its debut in enhancing my Singapore geographic knowledge when the Old Boy and I found ourselves frequenting a particular Hotel 81 in that vicinity. “Ballatine” thus became our very first secret code word for our appointed haunt where we spent many a late afternoon and evening rendezvous-ing.
*****
On a Thursday the week before I left for Nepal, the Old Boy texted to say that he was leaving for Malaysia with the domestics and wouldn't be in touch until I return from my grand trip 39 days later. In the text, the Old Boy said dear please take care ok. I was resigned to my fate and decided that it was probably for the best to prep me from forgetting him leading up to my trip of major self-reconstruction.
That evening, coincidentally, Big M suggested meeting up but late unfortunately due to work.
Anything but me being surrounded by my agonising thoughts would go in the late of night. Yes, that was fine I said since I am a lady of the night.
*****
“Would you like to check out my new place?” Big M asked as he was driving.
“Sure, why not?” I replied.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I love to check out new houses and apartments.”
I soon learnt that Big M has bought a penthouse in the vicinity “Ballatine”.
*****
We swiped his card and the automated gate opened before us. It was a new block of about thirty apartments that has yet to be inhibited by its occupants.
We took a lift up to the seventeenth storey. The door opened to Big M's apartment. In the dark since he has yet to install lights to his apartment, he took me on a grand tour around his place.
*****
I was soon to learn that Big M and his wife have bought two penthouses one on top of the other. The engineers were in the midst of building a staircase to connect the two apartments to become a two-storey abode. Interior planning by designers are also underway to turn this luxurious living space into quality and gracious living where dinner parties with the view of the city skyline will be entertained. I inquired politely if his Singaporean Chinese wife had also educated him with the importance of incorporating feng shui into the layout planning. Yes, that would also be taken care off by the interior decorators, he said.
Big M first led me to the balcony where we took in the expansive view of the skyline ahead of us.His hand guided me lightly by my waist and slowly began to wrap itself around me. I quickly walked ahead of him and continued onwards to explore the other areas of the house and found myself mesmerised in the vast living space and was mentally labouring over the interior decoration potential of the apartment. The apartments were definitely an interior designer's dream playground. I got excited and started suggesting ideas of what he could do with the place. He began to indulge me and further asked me a few more questions for suggestion of how he could make minor changes to some parts of the place.
At one stage, I checked out a bathroom and as I stared out the window, I noticed that in the opposite building, we could make out the translucent full body silhouette of a lady showering in her penthouse.
“Your penthouse certainly have a view,” I said tongue-in-cheek.
Big M took a double take and suddenly became aware of what my comment meant.
“Ah indeed!” We laughed.
We continued roaming the kitchen.
“Would you come here again if I invited you?” Big M eyed me keenly.
“Yes of course, when you invite me for your house warming party when the house is done, I'll definitely come. Why not?” I replied casually (and definitely innocently).
Throughout this “open house” inspection, Big M asked me the same question over a few times, seeminingly searching for some affirmation that I wasn't being alert to.
But as seconds began ticking by, I slowly became aware of the situation I have unwittingly led myself in.
As we sojourned to another mini balcony and I stood by the railings checking out the roof above, I found Big M standing behind me, his right hand stroking my waist and felt his left fingers doing the talking, lifting my black dress lightly, moving wantonly underneath it and feeling up my ass.
I pulled his hand away and turned to stare at him.
“Don't do this!”
Big M's withdrawn hand returned to my waist. He cocked his head to one side, reached over and kissed me lightly on one cheek.
We continued our grand tour of his not-so-humble abode. There was a room reserved specially for his parents who come to visit often enough. We travelled up to the topmost level via a private lift.Another one of the rooms with a view in the corner was about to be converted into a walk-in wardrobe to store the precious fashion apparel of Big M and his wife. The wall between this room and the next adjoining room was to be knocked down to become the master bedroom.
Big M and I then moved on to the vast balcony where he told me where they were going to build a barbecue area in one corner. He was a typical Aussie bloke, I told. What's an Aussie without a barbe? He asked if he should put two big tables to fill up the massive space he had. No way, this is not a Chinese restaurant, I joked. I suggested putting a long outdoor dining table out here- it would be good when he hosts dinner parties. There should be enough space for the waiting staff to walk around and I started playing the waitress role and walked around an imaginary table to serve plates. Ah how very natural, he said eyeing me.
On one side of the wall, there was a water feature with blue mosaic tiles. Big M said the interior decorators are ripping them off. What do you suggest I do? Oh, how about putting a shower head here agaimst a backdrop of autumn brown and camel shades of tiles instead to give a zen, contemporary feel. Maybe you should build a swimming pool here, I added excited at my own vision at interior decoration.
Big M looked at me and said, oh yes we do have a pool. He led me carefully round the right corner of the wall that led to a further area than I have noticed . I found myself staring at a slim contemporary looking reflective pool. You like, he asked cautiously, looking into my eyes which I thought was a self conscious attempt to make sure he had somewhat made a good enough impression . Yes, it's awesome. Very impressed, I replied in my usual half-mocking tone.
I stood at the edge of the balcony to take in the view of the world ahead of us. Big M stood behind me and started hugging me. He tried lifting my dress up again. I pulled his hand away.
“Why not?” He whispered softly into my ear, all hot and bothered.
“Cos you didn't ask for permission...”
“Can I kiss you then?” Big M spoke breathlessly.
He turned me to him and drew my face towards his and inserted his tongue into my mouth.
Anything to forget about my pain with the Old Boy....
Big M started pushing me gently and pinned me lightly against the wall next to the pool. I felt the hard throb of his manhood against me. I rubbed myself against him, one of his thigh between my legs. His breath quickened and he moaned softly.
Lightly lifting up my dress, he watched me lustily and whispered in his breathless tone if he could please have a look at what was underneath my dress.
I watched him seductively.
Part of me felt detached as I was pinned against the wall, like I was a third person watching a man in heat. I wasn't really there.
Big M gasped lustily as he stared at my black lolita-eque polka dotted netted panties with pink girlish ribbons. He attempted to touch my pussy.
“See, no touch,” I teased.
“Okay, okay...” Big M uttered those words pantingly and desirously.
The loose spaghetti straps started sliding off my shoulders exposing my black bra.
“Oh my god...” Big M sounded like he was going to have a cardiac arrest.
I laughed mockingly.
Big M reached out his hand and attempted to touch the bra cups.
“Don't you touch my breasts.” My tone hardened defensively.
“Oh sexy, it's just the outside...”
“No.”
“Okay, okay, I won't...” Big M stood admiring them lustily like a salivating bulldog.
Big M then flipped me to face the wall and lifted my dress once more caressing my ass. Between oohing and aahing gaspingly, he confessed how much he loved my ass and began thrusting himself at me. All this while, my left fingers were still gripping on to my black handbag.
I found myself feeling bored and decided to turn towards him lightly brushing my hands past his engorged beast waiting to do a jack-in-a-box spring out of his trousers.I pulled him against me and our tongues interacted for at least a good minute or so.
Clumsily and lustfully, Big M began unzipping himself. Then he guarded my hand to feel his erected dick, his half suffering expression so lost in carnal desire pleaded me to wank the hell out of him.
With the sinister of my hand still holding onto his bag, I had the spare use of my right. I masturbated the overly excited Big M whom at this stage looked like he was going to either become a case of heart attack on me or explode his cum all over my black terry towelling dress. Both were equally undesirable outcomes given that my astute mother does my laundry and the latter option might well be a death knell to my late night social life from thereon (yes, I am almost 30 but household protocol still rules!).
With the quickening of his breath, I knew that Big M was climaxing to the point of no return. In a way, I wanted to get it over and done with. The “third person” in me felt like I was a paid worker being procured for physical pleasures. My soul bordered on being detached and slightly amused.
“Don't shoot on my dress.” I commanded at the height of his breathlessness. “My mum does my laundry.”
“Ok, Ok...” His voice thrilled off. He was so gone.
“Ahhh...” Big M finally relieved of himself. When he cummed, he attempted aiming at the wall. My right hand was soaked with the white stuff. He was definitely a virile man. Part of the cum hit my newly bought slippers and I was definitely getting a little put off at the marring of my new footwear and the contact of cum with my feet.
I reached into my handbag and got tissues out for us. I gave him one to wipe himself and I began wiping my soiled fingers and then reached down to clean my stained right feet.
Big M pulled me to him again and kissed me.
I obliged for a bit and then retreated.
“Let's go.” I decided for us.
As we walked around the edge of the pool, I bent down and swinged my right hand playfully in the water to wash away the remnants of cum.
“Now your pool is filled with your cum.” I teased and gave him a half smile. Privately, I amused myself with the thought of Big M and his wife having a dip in the tainted pool.
Big M looked at me searchingly, a little surprised like I had made a shocking or overly bold statement of sorts.
“That was soooo good... Did you enjoy it too?”
“It's okay. Wanking is not quite my specialty.”
“So what is?By the way, I was told I am great in giving cunninglingus...” Big M eyed me suggestively, hoping that this would eventuate into yet another proposition to take place at a different part of the penthouse.
“Ahh... that also happens to be my specialty...” In the dark, I gave Big M a cheeky half smile.
“So you don't enjoy wanking?”
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“Cos' it's tiring to my hand.” I replied matter-of-factly.
Big M was slightly taken aback by my candidness.
“Let's go now. After you have enough of your fun, it's my turn now. I need a drink.”
So we left the apartment despite his initial desire to prolong our rendezvous there.
Quietly, I noted that Big M was married no more than six months at that stage with an unrenovated home that was eventually going to undergo a major facelift for it to be more “live-able” for these highly powered successful pair and which was to epitomise the domestic bliss of their “picture perfect” life. But bringing another woman home with the intention to rendezvous in this barely finished home, that appeared to be jinx-ing the eternal marital vows. Call me superstitious but then again, there is also an element of logic there.
I am also of the belief one doesn't shit where one eats.
*****
We headed to town for a drink. No more than a hundred metres from Big M's apartment block, we drove past a Hotel 81 and noticed that it was there that the Old Boy and I used to spend many an afternoon rendezvousing, making sweet and passionate love.
I felt my heart squeeze once more, remembering that the Old Boy had bid his farewell that morning and the angst that I felt of the inevitable change that might result from my grand pilgrimage to Nepal in one week's time. The emotional conflict of having to let go and the inability to let go. What if I did let go after 39 days or what if I haven't let go after 39 days? I feared the change which ironically could give me that last glimmer of hope to dispel my suffering but I wasn't ready to let go. I couldn't. However, the latter outcome also instilled anxiety because it also meant that I have become a lost cause. It would just become an expensive and unfulfilled exercise.
I took a deep breath and another quick look at the Hotel 81 in “Ballatine”. Then I turned my head straight ahead to try focusing on the road ahead of us.
*****
Well, so now “Ballatine”, a hitherto unfamiliar suburb to my limited exposure of Singapore geography in the other side of town, will forever form an imprint in my memory of cladestine outings.
How about a rendezvous in “Ballatine”? The penthouse or Hotel 81, if someone were to proposition me now.
I will take Hotel 81 with the haunting memories of the Old Boy and I.
Anytime. Without a shadow of doubt.
Oh, give me “Ballatine” like the old days once more.
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Need for Meditation
Too many whiskies and play over the weekend is proving to be disruptive once again to my precarious life (and mind). I have just downed a liver cleansing tablet.
The Old Boy hurt me once again over the weekend.
I crossed paths with people I once have professional brushings and recognised as complete strangers in random encounters.
Big M wrote to say he was coming back home, having been sent overseas to sort out the crap of what's happening in the volatile financial markets.
I have over extended myself socially for the entire week and have been invited luncheons and dinners.
REITS, I was told over dinner is something that I should consider investing in if I hadn't caught onto the wave of volatility in this week's financial markets. I have been recommended to speak to someone's broker.
My do-to list is running longer each day. I need 48 hours a day I gather. I have since cut down on sleep so I don't know how else to find more time in a day.
Meditate, I need to do. First things first since I am feeling like I am losing control over my professional affairs. Then there's the Old Boy-my last cause. Why do I know that we'll never see each other again for a long time after I depart to start a new life?
My emotions are still in transit. I despair to know it will be a final goodbye to any last hopes I have of a possible reconciliation between the Old Boy and me.
I have only the memories of March to bookmark the last of our joint histories.
In this instance, is a merciful relief that I never have the advantage of time on my side and the luxury of being permanently based in the same place with the object of my desire and play the silly game of waiting and waiting on the sidelines, just like the old days in Paris where I was hoping to make that big break? Well, except this time, I am hoping to break into one's heart without being broken.
Too many whiskies and play over the weekend is proving to be disruptive once again to my precarious life (and mind). I have just downed a liver cleansing tablet.
The Old Boy hurt me once again over the weekend.
I crossed paths with people I once have professional brushings and recognised as complete strangers in random encounters.
Big M wrote to say he was coming back home, having been sent overseas to sort out the crap of what's happening in the volatile financial markets.
I have over extended myself socially for the entire week and have been invited luncheons and dinners.
REITS, I was told over dinner is something that I should consider investing in if I hadn't caught onto the wave of volatility in this week's financial markets. I have been recommended to speak to someone's broker.
My do-to list is running longer each day. I need 48 hours a day I gather. I have since cut down on sleep so I don't know how else to find more time in a day.
Meditate, I need to do. First things first since I am feeling like I am losing control over my professional affairs. Then there's the Old Boy-my last cause. Why do I know that we'll never see each other again for a long time after I depart to start a new life?
My emotions are still in transit. I despair to know it will be a final goodbye to any last hopes I have of a possible reconciliation between the Old Boy and me.
I have only the memories of March to bookmark the last of our joint histories.
In this instance, is a merciful relief that I never have the advantage of time on my side and the luxury of being permanently based in the same place with the object of my desire and play the silly game of waiting and waiting on the sidelines, just like the old days in Paris where I was hoping to make that big break? Well, except this time, I am hoping to break into one's heart without being broken.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Tears and the 4a.m Syndrome
I haven't had the wake-up-at-4am syndrome since my return from Nepal. I attributed this to a healthier lifestyle of less drinking, more exercising and exhaustion from a more hectic work schedule in the day (of which some of you could tell from the weaning frequency of my blogging; but be warned I still have a bag full of tales). I have been very focused at the tasks at hand during the day.
But right now it's past 4a.m and since I woke up about half an hour ago, I find myself having a hard time going to bed. I decided that without further waste of time, I might as well start writing...
****
It must be the one too a many whiskey that I have consumed in the span of 2 hours between 9pm and 11 pm with Uncle G. I woke up feeling slightly pukey.
Earlier in the evening, the Old Boy and I went to a supposed Porsche car launch that ended up being more like a property developer's pitch to market its pricey condominiums in town. A few days ago, I caught up with Techie, whom I hadn't seen in years. He came to pick me up in his black Boxster and over tim sum at the Oriental Hotel, he propositioned a business idea for me to collaborate with him. Then he mentioned about the event and passed me the invitation.
"I don't like going to these events cos I don't like to be tempted," Techie confessed.
I reckoned I could do with him handing over his invitation card since the Old Boy would have loved to check out what's the latest in store with this big boy's toy. The Old Boy loved Porsches.
The Old Boy warned that we might well bum into his parents' friends so we better have a story should the occasion arise but fortunately, we had none of the sightings. His parents also happen to live in that area.
As usual, the Old Boy was his usual uncomfy self in "richie poos" events of such. There was a line up of Porsches parked outside the vicinity and the Old Boy has warned that we should spend no more than 30 minutes once we were done with ogling at the monster machines.
We did well, spending about 40 minutes at the event. It was mainly attributed to my gluttony- I applied my dexterity at procuring free gourmet food for the Old Boy and me. You would have spotted me gorging sushis, sashimis, mini wagyu beef burgers and other prissy canapes if you were there. Once I have decided that the culinary fare was getting a tad too repetitive, we finally sojourned upstairs to take a tour around the showroom flats.
After which, the Old Boy decided it was time to go. Uncle G, his parents' friend but also his, had invited us to join him at the prestigious country club where he golfs. An avid lover of whiskey, Uncle G is.
The club reminded me of the traditional big boys' club of gentlemen. At the bar, I noticed only 2 other females and myself. I observed that tanned golfer middle aged men and their cronies engaged in leisurely banter, chewing the fat over drinks, cigarettes and some food. We spotted the Old Boy's cousin at the next table. Earlier at the car park, he noted a Porsche Carrerra and recognised it to be his cousin's.
After a glass of whiskey, Uncle G and the Old Boy decided it was time for dinner. We went to Uncle G's usual haunt in that area.
The Old Boy was being his usual sensitive self at dinner. I was eyeing my favourite drumstick and his chopsticks beat me to it. Just as I thought he was going to pick it up and place it on his own plate, he had actually put it in mine before he moved on to get another piece of chicken for Uncle G. Maybe it was sheer chance that he got it right with the chicken parts (I absolutely abhor breast meat!). Anyhow like any other girl, I always loved to be taken care of in this way. I was reminded of DL and his unfailing attention to me. There are days where I quietly wonder if I actually like being showered tender, loving, care by a boyfriend/ man or I simply like good service and to be serviced. I can't quite tell anymore. At least if it was hired service like my trekking guide who went beyond his duties at making sure I got top class service and waited on me hand and foot and acted cautiously according to my erratic temperament, I could reward him with a generous tip. But what do you do with someone you love and who doesn't love you? How does one make it up to the person?
Uncle G being the clown that he was spent the night making jibes at me. Then he suddenly asked if I had a boyfriend of which I said no.
"How could someone so good looking like you not have a boyfriend?"
I didn't know what to say except in my mind, I was thinking that I couldn't have a boyfriend cos his friend, the Old Boy is married and that I love him with all my heart but he doesn't feel the same for me so how to have a boyfriend.
Post dinner, he made me down a small bottle of Umberberg straight that tasted like licorice to me, which he claimed would be good for my digestion.It has 44% alcohol content. Then we sojourned to the little tavern karaoke pub next door and Uncle G and I belted the songs out in the era of Rolling Good Times. The Old Boy joined in at times. Croners of the good kind, we all were.
I don't know if it was the alcohol that had already made my eyes a tad glassy but I found myself feeling somewhat bordering between emotional and touched by this outing. I was truly having a great time, what with the music, drinks and the company and there are times I felt that if I didn't hold my breath, tears could be streaming down my eyes. I looked at the Old Boy sitting next to me on the tall bar stool-he looked a little like a half stranger to me but ironically, a man I also realised I have never stopped loving since the end of last year. At that moment, it felt really surreal
Uncle G's mistress came to join us shortly but not for too long, the Old Boy realised that he had forgotten to take something from his office for his 7.30am meeting in the next day. So our night of fun was curtailed and we left the two lovebirds to more singing and drinking.
*****
The journey back home felt really short (for me) and the Old Boy dropped me off at my house.
We said our goodbyes and in my tipsy, pensive state, I made my way slowly into my house or the mansion, as he calls it.
I greeted and said my goodnight hastily to my parents who were watching television in the living room and hurried up to the third level where my bedroom is.
I found my eyes filled with tears and then felt the teardrops falling.
In my semi-drunken state in the late of night, I texted V and told her I still love the Old Boy.
I like to think that my emotions were heightened by the (at least) 5 glasses of whiskies and a white wine.
I haven't cried over the Old Boy since my time at the monastery.
In fact, I haven't thought about crying. I stopped living in angst and pain, I guess. Maybe just acceptance of my fate and our karma as lovers.
It's all good to come to this calmer state- acceptance. It helps to dispel the very root of suffering. But how does one get over loving? After all, in Buddhism, it is still a desirous attachment and this attachment causes suffering.
****
I am now sober. This present moment, I am as I type. I must say I am in love with him. Very much so.
I haven't had the wake-up-at-4am syndrome since my return from Nepal. I attributed this to a healthier lifestyle of less drinking, more exercising and exhaustion from a more hectic work schedule in the day (of which some of you could tell from the weaning frequency of my blogging; but be warned I still have a bag full of tales). I have been very focused at the tasks at hand during the day.
But right now it's past 4a.m and since I woke up about half an hour ago, I find myself having a hard time going to bed. I decided that without further waste of time, I might as well start writing...
****
It must be the one too a many whiskey that I have consumed in the span of 2 hours between 9pm and 11 pm with Uncle G. I woke up feeling slightly pukey.
Earlier in the evening, the Old Boy and I went to a supposed Porsche car launch that ended up being more like a property developer's pitch to market its pricey condominiums in town. A few days ago, I caught up with Techie, whom I hadn't seen in years. He came to pick me up in his black Boxster and over tim sum at the Oriental Hotel, he propositioned a business idea for me to collaborate with him. Then he mentioned about the event and passed me the invitation.
"I don't like going to these events cos I don't like to be tempted," Techie confessed.
I reckoned I could do with him handing over his invitation card since the Old Boy would have loved to check out what's the latest in store with this big boy's toy. The Old Boy loved Porsches.
The Old Boy warned that we might well bum into his parents' friends so we better have a story should the occasion arise but fortunately, we had none of the sightings. His parents also happen to live in that area.
As usual, the Old Boy was his usual uncomfy self in "richie poos" events of such. There was a line up of Porsches parked outside the vicinity and the Old Boy has warned that we should spend no more than 30 minutes once we were done with ogling at the monster machines.
We did well, spending about 40 minutes at the event. It was mainly attributed to my gluttony- I applied my dexterity at procuring free gourmet food for the Old Boy and me. You would have spotted me gorging sushis, sashimis, mini wagyu beef burgers and other prissy canapes if you were there. Once I have decided that the culinary fare was getting a tad too repetitive, we finally sojourned upstairs to take a tour around the showroom flats.
After which, the Old Boy decided it was time to go. Uncle G, his parents' friend but also his, had invited us to join him at the prestigious country club where he golfs. An avid lover of whiskey, Uncle G is.
The club reminded me of the traditional big boys' club of gentlemen. At the bar, I noticed only 2 other females and myself. I observed that tanned golfer middle aged men and their cronies engaged in leisurely banter, chewing the fat over drinks, cigarettes and some food. We spotted the Old Boy's cousin at the next table. Earlier at the car park, he noted a Porsche Carrerra and recognised it to be his cousin's.
After a glass of whiskey, Uncle G and the Old Boy decided it was time for dinner. We went to Uncle G's usual haunt in that area.
The Old Boy was being his usual sensitive self at dinner. I was eyeing my favourite drumstick and his chopsticks beat me to it. Just as I thought he was going to pick it up and place it on his own plate, he had actually put it in mine before he moved on to get another piece of chicken for Uncle G. Maybe it was sheer chance that he got it right with the chicken parts (I absolutely abhor breast meat!). Anyhow like any other girl, I always loved to be taken care of in this way. I was reminded of DL and his unfailing attention to me. There are days where I quietly wonder if I actually like being showered tender, loving, care by a boyfriend/ man or I simply like good service and to be serviced. I can't quite tell anymore. At least if it was hired service like my trekking guide who went beyond his duties at making sure I got top class service and waited on me hand and foot and acted cautiously according to my erratic temperament, I could reward him with a generous tip. But what do you do with someone you love and who doesn't love you? How does one make it up to the person?
Uncle G being the clown that he was spent the night making jibes at me. Then he suddenly asked if I had a boyfriend of which I said no.
"How could someone so good looking like you not have a boyfriend?"
I didn't know what to say except in my mind, I was thinking that I couldn't have a boyfriend cos his friend, the Old Boy is married and that I love him with all my heart but he doesn't feel the same for me so how to have a boyfriend.
Post dinner, he made me down a small bottle of Umberberg straight that tasted like licorice to me, which he claimed would be good for my digestion.It has 44% alcohol content. Then we sojourned to the little tavern karaoke pub next door and Uncle G and I belted the songs out in the era of Rolling Good Times. The Old Boy joined in at times. Croners of the good kind, we all were.
I don't know if it was the alcohol that had already made my eyes a tad glassy but I found myself feeling somewhat bordering between emotional and touched by this outing. I was truly having a great time, what with the music, drinks and the company and there are times I felt that if I didn't hold my breath, tears could be streaming down my eyes. I looked at the Old Boy sitting next to me on the tall bar stool-he looked a little like a half stranger to me but ironically, a man I also realised I have never stopped loving since the end of last year. At that moment, it felt really surreal
Uncle G's mistress came to join us shortly but not for too long, the Old Boy realised that he had forgotten to take something from his office for his 7.30am meeting in the next day. So our night of fun was curtailed and we left the two lovebirds to more singing and drinking.
*****
The journey back home felt really short (for me) and the Old Boy dropped me off at my house.
We said our goodbyes and in my tipsy, pensive state, I made my way slowly into my house or the mansion, as he calls it.
I greeted and said my goodnight hastily to my parents who were watching television in the living room and hurried up to the third level where my bedroom is.
I found my eyes filled with tears and then felt the teardrops falling.
In my semi-drunken state in the late of night, I texted V and told her I still love the Old Boy.
I like to think that my emotions were heightened by the (at least) 5 glasses of whiskies and a white wine.
I haven't cried over the Old Boy since my time at the monastery.
In fact, I haven't thought about crying. I stopped living in angst and pain, I guess. Maybe just acceptance of my fate and our karma as lovers.
It's all good to come to this calmer state- acceptance. It helps to dispel the very root of suffering. But how does one get over loving? After all, in Buddhism, it is still a desirous attachment and this attachment causes suffering.
****
I am now sober. This present moment, I am as I type. I must say I am in love with him. Very much so.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Peace Made
Just got into my inbox and got a message on Facebook from the Koran.
Re: something off my chest...
hey P, hope u're enjoying your stay back in town.
this may come out of the blue given that i've already told u (when we met couple nights ago) wat i'm going to reiterate hereforth..
i'm seriously involved with someone now & having met u that night made me realize that i really do indeed love my girlfriend very much & wouldn't want to do anything to endanger or complicate wat's still a relatively new & blossoming relationship.
as such, given my past lifestyle & specifically our history, i believe that i shouldn't remain in touch with u at least for now. pls find it in yourself to be happy for me & permit me to continue building something meaningful & special with my girlfriend.
(no reply needed as this is something i've considered carefully & my course of action is hence decided.)
i sincerely thank u for your kind understanding. i also wish u all the very best in your restaurant venture in Sad Town. do enjoy your stay in singapore & may u find happiness & success in all your future endeavors!
****
Reply from me:
Hey Koran,
Thanks so much for the considered message. I really appreciate your candidness.
No worries! Didn't expect anything from you except from your friendship and meeting up on Monday was definitely unexpected but pleasant!!! I really thought you wanted to find out how things were with me with my trek (silly me! Heh!) but noted that you were part distracted that evening until towards the end and I got your drift...
Meant to ask you if you came to tell me that (funnily on that day itself, an ex-grey arrangement of mine who is visiting S'pore for F1 & looking forward to catching up again also happened to drop the bombshell on me that he now has a gf... Chinese he had to add! Heh!) after I realised but I too didn't want you to take it the wrong way and misconstrued that I would have taken offence with your honesty...;)
I meant to say to you that long distance rships are not so bad and if you love this girl, it might well work its way out... The heart has reasons that the mind cannot fathom... but thought too that given our histories and my own emotionally messy life, I am not the best to proffer you with this little advice. Visit my blog, wrote a piece "The Gods are Smiling" about Monday. Do read it.
And remember I said I was going to write about "Koran"? I did a while back disguised under the title "About a Boy". Thats for you.
Ok, enough said. You go be happy-cos that's what I want you to be-as a friend!:)
I always meant to tell you I am sorry for the way I have treated you, esp in March. Your nice-ness always reminded me of my own guilt and fallacies as a human being. Guess I always made a better friend than a girlfriend of sorts...
And someone up there must have sent you to me for a good reason i.e. since I should never get myself involved with a married man... funny, I bumped into the Old Boy yday with an ex-lover (maybe back tog) with exactly the same name, surname and profession as me...
So there-here's a piece of my mind... always thought I never did the right thing by you and I just want to say I am sorry.
And I do remember, no matter how our story ends, we'll always be friends...:)
Best of luck in your future endeavours!
Muchos besos,
P
Just got into my inbox and got a message on Facebook from the Koran.
Re: something off my chest...
hey P, hope u're enjoying your stay back in town.
this may come out of the blue given that i've already told u (when we met couple nights ago) wat i'm going to reiterate hereforth..
i'm seriously involved with someone now & having met u that night made me realize that i really do indeed love my girlfriend very much & wouldn't want to do anything to endanger or complicate wat's still a relatively new & blossoming relationship.
as such, given my past lifestyle & specifically our history, i believe that i shouldn't remain in touch with u at least for now. pls find it in yourself to be happy for me & permit me to continue building something meaningful & special with my girlfriend.
(no reply needed as this is something i've considered carefully & my course of action is hence decided.)
i sincerely thank u for your kind understanding. i also wish u all the very best in your restaurant venture in Sad Town. do enjoy your stay in singapore & may u find happiness & success in all your future endeavors!
****
Reply from me:
Hey Koran,
Thanks so much for the considered message. I really appreciate your candidness.
No worries! Didn't expect anything from you except from your friendship and meeting up on Monday was definitely unexpected but pleasant!!! I really thought you wanted to find out how things were with me with my trek (silly me! Heh!) but noted that you were part distracted that evening until towards the end and I got your drift...
Meant to ask you if you came to tell me that (funnily on that day itself, an ex-grey arrangement of mine who is visiting S'pore for F1 & looking forward to catching up again also happened to drop the bombshell on me that he now has a gf... Chinese he had to add! Heh!) after I realised but I too didn't want you to take it the wrong way and misconstrued that I would have taken offence with your honesty...;)
I meant to say to you that long distance rships are not so bad and if you love this girl, it might well work its way out... The heart has reasons that the mind cannot fathom... but thought too that given our histories and my own emotionally messy life, I am not the best to proffer you with this little advice. Visit my blog, wrote a piece "The Gods are Smiling" about Monday. Do read it.
And remember I said I was going to write about "Koran"? I did a while back disguised under the title "About a Boy". Thats for you.
Ok, enough said. You go be happy-cos that's what I want you to be-as a friend!:)
I always meant to tell you I am sorry for the way I have treated you, esp in March. Your nice-ness always reminded me of my own guilt and fallacies as a human being. Guess I always made a better friend than a girlfriend of sorts...
And someone up there must have sent you to me for a good reason i.e. since I should never get myself involved with a married man... funny, I bumped into the Old Boy yday with an ex-lover (maybe back tog) with exactly the same name, surname and profession as me...
So there-here's a piece of my mind... always thought I never did the right thing by you and I just want to say I am sorry.
And I do remember, no matter how our story ends, we'll always be friends...:)
Best of luck in your future endeavours!
Muchos besos,
P
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
The Gods are Smiling...
I returned back to Singapore late last night. Lots of stories to tell but so much things to work on now for my future. I return to the office this morning to work through the immediate tasks at hand, between looking for yoga schools and organising a spa party for a hen's night this week. I need to get my priorities right. At least for once.
Readers, I will try my best over the course of the weeks to tell the stories I meant to tell, from pre-Nepal to post-Nepal. I know some of you out there has been ever so loyal and patient, re-visiting a blog site that doesn't seemed to get updated very much. But you see, I was unfortunately stuck in the mountains due to bad weather with no flights back to Kathmandu for there (another interesting story to tell) and the internet connection was slow and expensive.
And yes, I did made it to Everest Base Camp and halfway up the Kalar Pattar, but no sight of Mount Everest during that climb due to bad weather.
Right now, here's a little story to share below.
Thank you for all your patience. :D
****
Since my trip in Nepal, I really believe in the existence of karmic imprints in one's life, brought over by different previous lifetimes over. The people whom I have crossed paths with and parted ways, there must be a result of my actions in past lives, the resonating remnants spilled over to this lifetime for us to interact in certain ways.
This trip has settled me somewhat. The monastery was a place where I first was given the knowledge to make better sense why and how things were the way it was in my life. Then the pilgrimage up the Everest Base Camp did me in, but in a good way.
Being stuck in Luk-less Land settled the score for me. My perspective of life unwittingly has become altered somewhat. I feel myself undergoing this metamorphosis, coming to terms with the condition of my errant life, slowly letting go and making peace within myself.
It hasn't quite change my emotions or sentimentality for some; I am still me but it's me veering towards a strangely calming persona.
**
So my stopover trip in Bangkok for the weekend didn't happen.
As mentioned above, I was stuck in the mountains and missed my flight.
Serendipitiously, I didn't book a hotel and Big M's business trip in that busy city didn't actualise. The political action over there is something I could miss at the moment. No lost love for me; neither did I want to feel obliged to fuck Big M if he happened to be there. Perfect arrangement.
Wrote him a one-liner today about being back and how was his weekend.
He replied and mentioned about having to fly to London for work tonight and will catch me in two weeks, ok?
Maybe, maybe not. Looks like I am about to organise flights and jump onto the plane to be back in Sad Town again anytime soon. Work, opportunities and a new life beckon.
**
I saw Nano online today.
I checked with him his estimated date of arrival to Singapore for the Formula One race.Then I inquired if he was still wanting to come over to stay over at my house and I needed to get organised as we have discussed about his wanting to stayover pre-Nepal.
He replied that he wasn't sure. Gotta ask the girlfriend to see if she would let me, he said.
You got a girlfriend now? I asked. Part relieved, I was thinking then it was a good excuse for him to not have to stay. Again, I was previously fathoming how he could have stayed over without having him excited with high expectations to seal the previously unsealed deal with me. Post our foreplay, he always mentioned that he started developing a pre-deliction towards Chinese females.
Chinese, he said. He meant his new girlfriend. Then he said he had to go home for lunch and to lie down and abruptly logged off, his usual 12 noon way.
Nano just turned 30 on Sunday. In fact, I forgot (and I am not one to forget birthdays of lovers and flings or people for that matter).
I don't know why but I grinned. I left a little legacy there for Nano.
I didn't find myself ego bruised or anything like that. Just slightly amused at its timeliness.
Left him a message after to say that please do not feel obliged to stay at my house (given changes in circumstances) but let's definitely catch up when he is in town. It would be great!
It's been a little more than a year since Nano left my house and the last I saw of him. But it was the dawn of the beginning of what was to come for me, the crumbling of my nerves that paved the way for my break up with DL.
How time flies. One year on, I didn't realise I could be this indifferent and relieved that I didn't have to feel compelled (by my ego) to do my for-the-destination checkbox tick off the list of my fuck wishlist. I did sensed before that we were both intended on finishing off what we didn't quite complete the last time. Us, in the form of carrot baits for each other, still dangles closely before our very noses.
I didn't like adding on to my numbers but I did fancy closing him off as the last one on my deal sheet.
But that's all come to past.
Thank Buddha.
Nano used to say that I was more than a friend to him but no matter what, we were friends first.
So friends we will be.
**
I texted the Koran and a few other friends this evening past 9pm to mention that I am back from my grand trip.
Minutes later, I received a message where he mentioned that he was knocking off work and asked if it was possible for us to meet quickly in about 20 minutes at the coffee shop outside my house.
Of course, I mentioned.
We met. I talked a little about my trip, plans going forward and him about his work. Initially, he looked a little awkward and then he warmed up.
During the course my conversation attempting to describe my trials and tribulations at the mountains, we were interrupted by a phone call for him, to which he got up quickly, excused himself and said he had to take the call.
It was all good for me and I sensed that perhaps it must be that new special girl?
He returned to mention that he had to go off really soon as his mum was on the way from his grandma's house and will pick him up at the nearby MRT station.
No worries, I said.
Then towards the end, we started talking about his possible temporary posting to work in the Middle East and he brought up a topic about his “personal life”.
It suddenly made sense for me.
The Koran came to see me with an agenda. He had news for me.
He is now seeing a new girl.
Vaguely, he mumbled about it being the first time that...
and I continued that it might be somewhat more serious?
But he was quick to say not so much so and qualified about it being more like trying for a long distance relationship.
I smiled at him and kindly cited about my ex-boyfriend, DL and I previously being in a long distance relationship in a long time, it's not that bad.
I meant to advise that the heart would overlook barriers as such but instead decided, I was probably not the best person to proffer him any emotional advice of sorts and given our joint past, it may well be deemed inappropriate.
Today was his call to probably set the record straight on the table and he wanted to get his words off his chest. And voila, he delivered his intended news.
Was that what he came to tell me? I meant to ask but thought the wiser to let it slide, lest he misconstrued that I took his personal update as an affront with his polite attempts at honesty.
I smiled at him, being reminded that earlier today, I was too served the news by Nano that he has a new girlfriend.
Two “ego-bruising” news in one day or what one might call a double whammy.
Well, maybe three since I got the sense from a previous email by Big M whilst I was still in Nepal that the honeymoon in the exotic safaris of Africa did work some magic with him and his wife.
But I was smiling and still smiling.
I didn't feel any desirous attachment bore out of my Ego to hold on and on to what I would normally termed my “defeat”. Instead, I quietly wish that things would work out for him.
No, my face certainly didn't burnt in embarrassment of any sorts. I took the news in a peaceful and positive way.
Koran and I were after all of the kindred spirit and I did hope he is having a great time.
Koran once wrote to me that no matter how our story ended, we would always be friends.
Yes, I think so too.
Koran always reminded me of my own guilt- me previously having not do the right thing by him despite him having been quite a sweet boy.
I once told him the story of M and me, his re-visit of me in Singapore post the Paris affair. Koran said I scared M away, that was what happened.
Did I? I asked.
Another time, he said I sounded like a man when I gave my take on relationships.
Maybe he is right. Well, to some extent.
Ah well, at least I think I make a better friend than a girlfriend or lover girlfriend.
And good thing is, friends could have a better chance of lasting forever.
****
Today, I woke up from my nap with a sudden insatiable impulse and urge to fuck.
The sensation past after a few seconds.
Then I remembered that I haven't been in so much carnal want for so long.
It was mainly a result of that emotional and mental barrier to fantasize about fucking I experienced post my shaken nerves with the Old Boy. My love for him formed an impediment to any physical desires I had of other people, imaginary or real.
I stopped wanting to be polygamous with the Koran, Nano and even up till now, with Big M. It was too hard to bear and then there was also the reminder of guilt of how I lost the Old Boy, through my supposed “infidelity” or was it really polygamy?
Even playing with toys proved to get more challenging by the day with one part of my now limited imagination confined to only making love to the Old Boy and the other part of me, wanting to negate any thoughts I suffered of the Old Boy, which meant cutting out any fantasies and and inevitably, forms of sexual foreplays I would perform on myself.
Maybe that was the good thing that came out of this heart wrenching experience. Abstinence of sexual misconduct.
Today, I realised something.
My mental intimacy checklist running.
Last man I fucked- Koran.
Last man I sucked- the Old Boy.
Last man I touched- Big M.
Geez, my last fuck and suck happened more than six months ago.
My karma seems to be working in spiritual favour for me.
I must have done something right somewhere in Nepal, given the timeliness of the state of affairs.
I hope at least, with my inactions voluntary and involuntary, I should be accumulating some merit here for a less painful next life.
The gods must be smiling now.
I returned back to Singapore late last night. Lots of stories to tell but so much things to work on now for my future. I return to the office this morning to work through the immediate tasks at hand, between looking for yoga schools and organising a spa party for a hen's night this week. I need to get my priorities right. At least for once.
Readers, I will try my best over the course of the weeks to tell the stories I meant to tell, from pre-Nepal to post-Nepal. I know some of you out there has been ever so loyal and patient, re-visiting a blog site that doesn't seemed to get updated very much. But you see, I was unfortunately stuck in the mountains due to bad weather with no flights back to Kathmandu for there (another interesting story to tell) and the internet connection was slow and expensive.
And yes, I did made it to Everest Base Camp and halfway up the Kalar Pattar, but no sight of Mount Everest during that climb due to bad weather.
Right now, here's a little story to share below.
Thank you for all your patience. :D
****
Since my trip in Nepal, I really believe in the existence of karmic imprints in one's life, brought over by different previous lifetimes over. The people whom I have crossed paths with and parted ways, there must be a result of my actions in past lives, the resonating remnants spilled over to this lifetime for us to interact in certain ways.
This trip has settled me somewhat. The monastery was a place where I first was given the knowledge to make better sense why and how things were the way it was in my life. Then the pilgrimage up the Everest Base Camp did me in, but in a good way.
Being stuck in Luk-less Land settled the score for me. My perspective of life unwittingly has become altered somewhat. I feel myself undergoing this metamorphosis, coming to terms with the condition of my errant life, slowly letting go and making peace within myself.
It hasn't quite change my emotions or sentimentality for some; I am still me but it's me veering towards a strangely calming persona.
**
So my stopover trip in Bangkok for the weekend didn't happen.
As mentioned above, I was stuck in the mountains and missed my flight.
Serendipitiously, I didn't book a hotel and Big M's business trip in that busy city didn't actualise. The political action over there is something I could miss at the moment. No lost love for me; neither did I want to feel obliged to fuck Big M if he happened to be there. Perfect arrangement.
Wrote him a one-liner today about being back and how was his weekend.
He replied and mentioned about having to fly to London for work tonight and will catch me in two weeks, ok?
Maybe, maybe not. Looks like I am about to organise flights and jump onto the plane to be back in Sad Town again anytime soon. Work, opportunities and a new life beckon.
**
I saw Nano online today.
I checked with him his estimated date of arrival to Singapore for the Formula One race.Then I inquired if he was still wanting to come over to stay over at my house and I needed to get organised as we have discussed about his wanting to stayover pre-Nepal.
He replied that he wasn't sure. Gotta ask the girlfriend to see if she would let me, he said.
You got a girlfriend now? I asked. Part relieved, I was thinking then it was a good excuse for him to not have to stay. Again, I was previously fathoming how he could have stayed over without having him excited with high expectations to seal the previously unsealed deal with me. Post our foreplay, he always mentioned that he started developing a pre-deliction towards Chinese females.
Chinese, he said. He meant his new girlfriend. Then he said he had to go home for lunch and to lie down and abruptly logged off, his usual 12 noon way.
Nano just turned 30 on Sunday. In fact, I forgot (and I am not one to forget birthdays of lovers and flings or people for that matter).
I don't know why but I grinned. I left a little legacy there for Nano.
I didn't find myself ego bruised or anything like that. Just slightly amused at its timeliness.
Left him a message after to say that please do not feel obliged to stay at my house (given changes in circumstances) but let's definitely catch up when he is in town. It would be great!
It's been a little more than a year since Nano left my house and the last I saw of him. But it was the dawn of the beginning of what was to come for me, the crumbling of my nerves that paved the way for my break up with DL.
How time flies. One year on, I didn't realise I could be this indifferent and relieved that I didn't have to feel compelled (by my ego) to do my for-the-destination checkbox tick off the list of my fuck wishlist. I did sensed before that we were both intended on finishing off what we didn't quite complete the last time. Us, in the form of carrot baits for each other, still dangles closely before our very noses.
I didn't like adding on to my numbers but I did fancy closing him off as the last one on my deal sheet.
But that's all come to past.
Thank Buddha.
Nano used to say that I was more than a friend to him but no matter what, we were friends first.
So friends we will be.
**
I texted the Koran and a few other friends this evening past 9pm to mention that I am back from my grand trip.
Minutes later, I received a message where he mentioned that he was knocking off work and asked if it was possible for us to meet quickly in about 20 minutes at the coffee shop outside my house.
Of course, I mentioned.
We met. I talked a little about my trip, plans going forward and him about his work. Initially, he looked a little awkward and then he warmed up.
During the course my conversation attempting to describe my trials and tribulations at the mountains, we were interrupted by a phone call for him, to which he got up quickly, excused himself and said he had to take the call.
It was all good for me and I sensed that perhaps it must be that new special girl?
He returned to mention that he had to go off really soon as his mum was on the way from his grandma's house and will pick him up at the nearby MRT station.
No worries, I said.
Then towards the end, we started talking about his possible temporary posting to work in the Middle East and he brought up a topic about his “personal life”.
It suddenly made sense for me.
The Koran came to see me with an agenda. He had news for me.
He is now seeing a new girl.
Vaguely, he mumbled about it being the first time that...
and I continued that it might be somewhat more serious?
But he was quick to say not so much so and qualified about it being more like trying for a long distance relationship.
I smiled at him and kindly cited about my ex-boyfriend, DL and I previously being in a long distance relationship in a long time, it's not that bad.
I meant to advise that the heart would overlook barriers as such but instead decided, I was probably not the best person to proffer him any emotional advice of sorts and given our joint past, it may well be deemed inappropriate.
Today was his call to probably set the record straight on the table and he wanted to get his words off his chest. And voila, he delivered his intended news.
Was that what he came to tell me? I meant to ask but thought the wiser to let it slide, lest he misconstrued that I took his personal update as an affront with his polite attempts at honesty.
I smiled at him, being reminded that earlier today, I was too served the news by Nano that he has a new girlfriend.
Two “ego-bruising” news in one day or what one might call a double whammy.
Well, maybe three since I got the sense from a previous email by Big M whilst I was still in Nepal that the honeymoon in the exotic safaris of Africa did work some magic with him and his wife.
But I was smiling and still smiling.
I didn't feel any desirous attachment bore out of my Ego to hold on and on to what I would normally termed my “defeat”. Instead, I quietly wish that things would work out for him.
No, my face certainly didn't burnt in embarrassment of any sorts. I took the news in a peaceful and positive way.
Koran and I were after all of the kindred spirit and I did hope he is having a great time.
Koran once wrote to me that no matter how our story ended, we would always be friends.
Yes, I think so too.
Koran always reminded me of my own guilt- me previously having not do the right thing by him despite him having been quite a sweet boy.
I once told him the story of M and me, his re-visit of me in Singapore post the Paris affair. Koran said I scared M away, that was what happened.
Did I? I asked.
Another time, he said I sounded like a man when I gave my take on relationships.
Maybe he is right. Well, to some extent.
Ah well, at least I think I make a better friend than a girlfriend or lover girlfriend.
And good thing is, friends could have a better chance of lasting forever.
****
Today, I woke up from my nap with a sudden insatiable impulse and urge to fuck.
The sensation past after a few seconds.
Then I remembered that I haven't been in so much carnal want for so long.
It was mainly a result of that emotional and mental barrier to fantasize about fucking I experienced post my shaken nerves with the Old Boy. My love for him formed an impediment to any physical desires I had of other people, imaginary or real.
I stopped wanting to be polygamous with the Koran, Nano and even up till now, with Big M. It was too hard to bear and then there was also the reminder of guilt of how I lost the Old Boy, through my supposed “infidelity” or was it really polygamy?
Even playing with toys proved to get more challenging by the day with one part of my now limited imagination confined to only making love to the Old Boy and the other part of me, wanting to negate any thoughts I suffered of the Old Boy, which meant cutting out any fantasies and and inevitably, forms of sexual foreplays I would perform on myself.
Maybe that was the good thing that came out of this heart wrenching experience. Abstinence of sexual misconduct.
Today, I realised something.
My mental intimacy checklist running.
Last man I fucked- Koran.
Last man I sucked- the Old Boy.
Last man I touched- Big M.
Geez, my last fuck and suck happened more than six months ago.
My karma seems to be working in spiritual favour for me.
I must have done something right somewhere in Nepal, given the timeliness of the state of affairs.
I hope at least, with my inactions voluntary and involuntary, I should be accumulating some merit here for a less painful next life.
The gods must be smiling now.
