The Sleeping Beauty

I had wished I could sleep on forever to be waken up by a Prince Charming riding his white horse.
Then I'd skip every painful things, save every pieces of my heart, and stop feeling so miserable. 
Then I could just fast forward everything to see the Happily Ever After inside your eyes, by the end. 
Then I could put on my sweetest smile which had been long lost until you brought it back to me. 
Or even better, I could hold your hand so tight, and you'd squeeze mine in return, and we no longer care what the world would think.


But the dream ended soon as the morning dew had vanished. 
I wanted to be able to tell myself that it's okay if fairy tales didn't come true.
I wanted to be whole even you would not pass by and stop to rescue me. 
I wanted to wake up despite you're not next to me. 


And I really wanted to believe I could be happy. 

The Time Keeps Changing

You are the Future who hasn't become a Past yet.

You are going to be a beautiful Present for me when I wrap the gift paper.

So I am supposed to be a good boy, and pray really really earnestly.
Until you'd hear me, and we'd meet in an intersection that we would have chosen accidentally.
Then the clock would have stopped at forever. 

The Apologize

I know I haven't been an exactly nice person these past years.

I know I have been very much annoying.

I have even wished that I could have been more subtle and less stubborn, instead of hiding behind this mask of insecurity. 

I know I have been bitching around, being miserable, and let my negativity drive my way around you while I shouldn't have. 

I should have been more compassionate. I should have been more sensitive towards others, not just myself. I should have been more mature and wise. I should have been accepting myself more, and giving in to the fact that I am not that attractive and that the universe doesn't evolve around me. 

I know I am pathetic, that I am better in writing this down rather than saying it to you directly and personally. 
I promise, though, there will be a day when I could find the courage to do it face to face. That is, if you even bother to take a look on me.  
I don't expect you to forgive me and get past everything and be friends again, for I don't even know what kind of friend I am to you -well, besides being constantly-hostile-and-totally-unforgiving-even-at-the-slightest-offense-kind of friend. 
What I have done to you was wrong, whatever my reason was. The stupid sentences, useless arguments, and everything. It's almost like we're fighting on a regular basis, was it?


I am not doing this to make myself feel any better.  
I just have to. Eventually.  


And for now, let me be pathetic. And smile for the slightest hope that you'd judge me again for this.
Maybe it's your way of showing how much you really cared for me. 


So, 
I am sorry. .. .

The Lost Dandelion

I had blown all the seeds away, whispering them to carry on my message. 
I had wished upon the wind to sweep them along, to the ten directions, to everywhere. 
I had crossed my fingers so that one of them, one was enough, could safely reach you.

But there's never any returned phone call, nor e-mail..

The Unburied Time Capsule

I had wished to forget about you and to live more in the present.
For the sense in me had told me over and over again that you and I, we're over.
We're done. And nothing could take you back.


I had written my goodbye lines a thousand time over that I had even memorized it too well.
I had practised it every single day that it had become me myself.
I was supposed to be able to say my farewell dramatically, but beautifully, to the past. To you. To my former happiness.


But they kept coming back.
And the good-bye words had silently transformed into a pray that you'd be alright, circling around floating in the air like an addicting drug. 

The Stopping Carousel

Do you remember the two kids in the kindergarten who held hands?

The one taller always looked like he was protecting the other one.

You said it was cute.They were cute. 

And I remembered the childhood, when the heart was supposed to be pure.

When the love knew no stain. 

And I could hold your hand without hiding so tight in the closet. 

But we ain't Doraemon nor Henry deTamble.

We're stuck here. 

And the carousal had long stopped before we even found it painful.

The Vanishing Dew

You're just like a reddish vermillion twilight.

You painted my sky orange and yellow. 
You had just adjusted my hue and the saturation, that everything finally made sense. 
Fit the composition. 

I came to where the ache and the hurt were not that painful.
The same exact point that I actually believed I was not that broken that I had found you. 

Anymore. Anyway. 

Then you went away. So quickly, so swiftly, without even looking back. 
Without holding back. 


And I was back to the darkness. 

The Sky Beyond The Sky

The string had been passed through a mixture of ground glass powder. And glued.
The kite was flown: courageously he raised above the cloud.

Just so high. Only so high. Then he was cut loose and fallen.

Still he struggled to float, trying to touch the blue color. 

Trying to pass the messages. 

Trying to reach the unreachable you. 

Did you read them? 
Did you see it, before I lost the fight? 

The Missing Ingredient

It was between the morning coffee and afternoon tea. 

It was between many sleepless nights and lonely mornings.

It was between tasteless lunch and two empty wine-bottles. 

It was between countless TV Shows and a few boxes of Kleenex. 

There's no longer you. 

Remembrance

Do you remember the time when you first lay your eyes on him?

Do you remember the time when you first feel the heart-beat within you, sounding so vigorous, just because he smiles back at you?

Do you remember the feeling when he first calls you, and his voice is just so heavenly? 

Do you remember the nervous feeling inside your stomach, when he finally holds your hand?

Do you remember the rush within you, somewhere within you, when he first kisses you? 

Do you remember the intimacy when you finally get to hug him so tight, as if there's no such thing as a space in a paragraph? 

Do you remember how sweet it is when he first says 'I love you? And the urge you have to say it back to him, that you love him, only to the rest of the world? 

Do you remember the pain you have to bear each time you can't see him?

Do you remember how it feels like to have so much love, yet so little time to show it? 

Do you? 

.

.

.

.

.

I don't. 

This is not Goodbye

You used to be the one who'd care about all of us. 

You wanted to be a fairy god-mother - well, except for me, since I am only the nephew. So technically you're an aunt. But that's not the point. Because you have given me so many cousins. *grin*

You used to say you wanted to know me better. And I guessed that I didn't really open up myself to you. It's not your fault. It's not because I didn't value you. It just took time for me to really share something personal of me to someone else. I do value you. That much. And I just didn't really show it up. 

But to my awe, you didn't walk away. You stayed true. You said we're friends. And friends are supposed to be forever. I should have learnt well. 

But next time, dude, I promise you. We're going to sit together again,

talking about almost anything,

or just staying silent while watching some chick-flicks.  

There's never a-too-late for anything, is it?

So now, I am going to return you that favor. 

I am going to stay here, still here, silently praying that you'd do well. You'd stay happy. She would stay happy. 

And you guys would be complete. Forever and ever. Just like the fairy tales. 

I am going to stay here, this is time without any judging. I would be a good listener when you need, just like once and every time you've been for me. 

I am going to stay here, as a friend. So this is not a goodbye. This is never a goodbye. 

So, till someday, dear. 

Lots of hugs, 

Ed. 

Being Single

Are you familiar with the rush in your blood when you see somebody hot in the supermarket, buying some perhaps high-protein milk? Or when you find a hot guy in a book store, reading some broad and heavy stuff? Or even better, the urge you have when you notice somebody hot in the gym, lifting his dumb-bell, has been watching you?

And although you've tried so sincerely to play hard-to-get, to ignore those hot guys, and not to turn your head around following his bubble ass, there's like this devil, somewhere between your brain, heart, and Mr.P, advocating you to eat them alive. The next second in your mind? You, him, bed. Steamy, sexy, and sleazy.

Like last week, when I visited a gorgeous mall newly-built in B-town. The mall is still new, still cold, and still crowded, and to my surprise, was full of good-looking people. It's like you're being outside B-town without actually going out of the town. So, there I was, celebrating an eye-fest, awe to awe, eating the man-candy, and playing the boy-toy.

I've been trying to so hard to behave, you know. Not in a queery-queeny way, of course, but at least, I know that I must try to be a little discreet, right? I mean, throwing stares at people who you don't really know is not quite polite, isn't it? And I don't really need to be more obvious than I already am, do I? Well..

So I wonder, as I stepped in back to my bed-closet that night. Is it in our DNA that we're always ending up trying -and wanting - to find a partner? The urge to satisfy our biological needs? That somehow it is inevitable? The obsessing over some guys? The pathetic miserable need to want someone as if it is the missing ingredient to a perfect home-made cooking? The image - hot body, flat abs, tight biceps and any-other-ceps - that never fails to make us waow-ing for a while? Hell, a fellow blogger next door even suggests some castes based on physical appearances and he's sure proud with his body.


So it is our DNA to blame?
But then, if it is so inherently natural, then why are we trying so hard to bind ourselves? One thing for sure, if it's our DNA, then we're not really alone, right? There are plenty of guys who share the same interests with us - if not to say every single one of them. 

I do believe that all the single gays are actively hunting; either for the Mr Right or Mr Right Now. See the AJ club? Crowded. See the flourishing of sexual services? It's everywhere to be found - easy money, profitable, and lots of fun. And it further suggests that we crave for some intimacy. 


But the first question is, why? Why we can't be just single and happy, enjoying the most of and from ourselves? Then, the second question, what does it take to involve in a sexual-and/or loving relationship?


But does not-being-single have anything to do with happiness? Is it true that love comes in as the missing piece to our jigsaw puzzle? Even if it's true, it's sweet and adorable, but are we really defined by the guy we love? Aren't we supposed to be happy and whole before we indulge in relationship? 


I think I mentioned this before in one of my previous blogs. Happiness comes from within. We can be happy even we're single. We're supposed to be happy if we want the happiness. We don't just want, act, or try to find happiness. 


All we need to do is be happy. 
And it doesn't have anything to do with being single or not, does it? 


So here it is: the final equation for today: Being single, and happy. :-)