Flicker

Here's to Swann. Since you've asked me about the role of this guy in my life. And this particular entry which attributes to him alone.

Finally, Kim, you have a page to yourself on my blog. Now you have to stop complaining why you always have to take my pictures, and me playing the brat taking without hints that you sorely want to have a solo too. You just don't know how I put my effort to this photo. Can you be at least grateful that I took a picture of you while you were sleeping, instead of you yakking how self-centered I could be at all times? Don't you think this is a nice one?

Another to add though...

You're most cute here. Honest :p

Please don't be bitter. Because here I am showing it to the world that I come humbly before you. And I promise that I'll ever behave in the next photo-travel. I'll return the favor at my leisure.

I have decided to write about you again because many people do still ask. We laugh at their comments a gazillion of times already. In fact, just last night didn't stop the wrinkles and dark circles under our eyes, when we laughed our heads' off like hyenas. No, you heehawed actually.

But what is really the fact of the matter? This being brought into being filled me a recognition as foreseen as your words have begun to doubt me.

*** I was a bum at UP. You were Mr. Intellectual at SU. That still makes us both geniuses. Haha. Pride and prejudice. This is preposterous logic. But we are British. How does this connect? I know, I know... I don't need every technical term or whatsoever. I know you are also wired.

I'll pen name you as Kim.
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It arrived a surprise, a postcard from you. It was neatly composed. Succinct and to the point. I immediately left Freudan school of thoughts and scurried myself to get home. I had to write you back pronto.

Almost a year of concealing, you finally had the balls to admit that you stole my picture which was on Ma's rack of displays. You were there when we almost turned the house upside down searching for that precious thing. I am in awe because you're simply the best actor at that time. I didn't have the slightest inkling you're the culprit.

So I wrote back my banter and chaffed at how un-knightly an admirer you were, bedecked with chivalry only to manifest after months past of mitching. Verily Casper. You didn't send a reply anymore. I lost track of time. I totally forgot of the whole thing. Even while scribing this now, I am trying to retain the snippets of events that came after.

You caught me unaware when you suddenly showed up in my room. I was glued to the tube when you slapped my butt with the book you borrowed from me a long, hundred years ago. You took the piss out of me. But hey, I wasn't a trying hard hot babe in skimpy red shorts. You personified me as such. Bleh :p You leashed me to the grocery. And I trailed behind you at the same time licking my dripping ice crunch (your treat). Did you just pay for the sanitary pads? Haha.

Those were our last days in town. The daily church mass. The long walks. The drive me to nowhere scenarios. Dunkin' Donuts. Barbeque. Acoustic nights. Yes, I do still remember Ann, the bar attendant at the karaoke. She was really kind to let us sing and didn't charge us to order more than a glass of iced tea for each of us. That place is highly priced.

I don't want to drag this story out. This is not making sense at all.

Three months after I arrived in Japan. While you climbed the corporate ladder and made it your world. And still under your spell, this servant of the bones endured once again the summons of your secrecy. For a half year and one, I'd stuck up my tongue not telling even members of our tribe that you went to law school. I couldn't even tell Mama because you'd kill me. And I was so threatened by you. Hmph, Hong Kong is indeed an arm's length for you to stab me.

Nearly two years of sneaking e-mails or chat messages, the buzz(!) and screams at long last sufficed. Right from the first call since you got here, my phone's drained of battery supply. And we talk of the same things all over again, night and day.

Last night when you told me that you still have that picture, I was stifled by my own laughs. I haven't seen it framed in your apartment. I could not anymore gibe that at you. I intentionally snubbed the topic because I wanted to avoid what is becoming salient to me.

I have thought of again our conversations way before, of our plight to settle in Switzerland or in Canada. And this life that is unraveling before us perplexed me of the reality of your words. Did you really follow me here, when you could have opted NY for a sandiest pasture?