what it means to feel
written: 9:44 p.m. on Friday, Aug. 08, 2003
Even if the bus is choked with people whom you rather didn't exist it doesn't really matter, because you forget they are even there when you lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt on your skin, fingers almost touching.
That's contentment.
**
I liked "How To Deal" a lot better when Halley Martin was her cynical self. It's a crappy movie, as expected, and I only wanted to see it because it's based on two of Sarah Dessen's novels, "That Summer" and "Someone Like You".
The latter is one of my favourite books, and this should've been a clear warning to me that I shouldn't have bothered. I couldn't stop making mental comparisons between the movie and the book and the ending in the movie was utter shite. It's something that will never happen in real life, because if I were the girl in the show, I would call up the guy and say, "Fuck you."
I don't believe in relationships. I don't believe in marriage. I don't believe in love.
Like Halley Martin (Mandy Moore did a good job) I'm cynical. Unlike her I'm not moved by marriage, I'm not moved by three cliche and commonplace words uttered by so many insincere tongues around the world in every country in different languages, different tones, different ways. "I love you". It's bullshit. You don't love anybody but yourself. You're the only person you can ever love and not get hurt in the process.
You are me. I'm talking about myself.
And everytime he does something nice, something that touches me in ways no guy has ever touched me before (and I'm not talking about physical contact), everytime he jokes, everytime he laughs, everytime he smiles, everytime he talks to me, jabs me playfully in the ribs, everytime he refuses to take my money, everytime he teases me, everytime I'm with him... all of those bitterly jaded cynicism reservations about such things just fly out of the window, dissolving themselves in the wind and letting it take them away.
And when he finally holds my hand after so long of waiting for him to make the first move...
I can't even put into words the crazy emotions that I felt.
I never did see this coming. For all my self-composed refrains of "I am a genius" I never saw this coming. Granted, when I first saw him coming into class for History lesson I thought he was good-looking. I only bothered attempting to talk to him because I found him attractive. I was attracted to him, but as I got to know him better I decided, somehow, that he wasn't my type. And truth be told, that was majorly based on the fact that he's Catholic and I'm a stout Atheist.
Still, as much as I think I truly believed I only saw him as a friend and nothing more for quite a while, I think that all those while, at the back of my mind, somewhere in the hidden depths of my insane reason for existence, I always wanted him.
And when the jokes got friendlier and we started sitting by ourselves together during every single Maths lecture and then there's Sunday, and the basketball game that he went to with me, and the Slam Dunk t-shirts he got for me on my birthday, and when I realise I'm completely comfortable with him, my feelings started to change...
Or perhaps I've been completely blind to them, all these while.
To think I used to tell him about my silly crush on Number 14... the cager... ha, ha.
It's funny now that I think about it.
I'm really tired. He made me walk all the way from Lido to Plaza Singapura after stopping by Centrepoint for more aimless walking around.
Not that I'm truly complaining.
**
A burst of fireworks, colourful sparks lighting up the velvet night sky. A mirage, gentle passing wind, sand shifting, melting.
Just a smile or a touch. Your hand in mine, my hand in yours.
before sunrise // before sunset
Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010