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It feels like you're not wanting to let me in, to let me see you when you're vulnerable. Maybe you simply don't want me to catch whatever it is you're having (though I'd have you know now that I rarely fall sick); or maybe you're just not in the mood.
The thing is, the only time I wasn't in the mood to see you was the time we fought passive-aggressively over something stupid I started, via SMS. I'm never not in the mood to see you. I'm always in the mood to see you. I think I don't understand because I'm not you and I don't know what it feels like to wake up with a splitting headache, to feel feverish and hot every other week, to be unwell the way you've been so many times since we got together. I don't understand, and that's okay; but it feels like you're not wanting me to understand. And that's not okay.
This hurts more than the unrealised mental images in my head, my friends continue to not know who you are, and another Saturday without you. I shouldn't be making this about myself, and it's not about me, and it's about you and how you feel, and if you need space I should give you space.
I'm waiting for the time when you need me, when I'm able to feel like you need me. Right now it doesn't feel that way. It doesn't feel like you want to - need to - see me when you're sick the way I want to - need to - see you when you're sick. I'm standing by the sidelines, not even watching because all I have at times like these are your text messages, telling me in vague, brief, sometimes curt words how you're feeling. And I can't do anything. I can't do anything but send you sad faces, useless words to tell you to rest as if that'd make you better. It doesn't, you see. It doesn't.
And neither would holding you make you better; but at least I'd be there with you.
It's been all about tennis the past four days. I must say - playing tennis four days in a row tends to take its toll on a person. I cancelled tennis with Thx U on Friday, then took back the cancellation one hour later (Thx U replied: "You are like the weather." That was quite funny). Cancelled first because I woke up with a runny nose that went away after a while (stupid sinus), and also simultaneously woke up with aching legs, especially the thighs. That didn't go away. But I felt like playing more than I felt like resting, so I went down in the end.
To Singapore Poly. It was interesting. His friends joined us towards the end and his best friend, this girl, was really cute. They spoke Chinese to each other but English to me and that was a bit weird.
This morning was tennis with NUS Wall Guy. The weather was fantastic - cloudy, no sun, cooling. Well, save for the humidity it was fantastic, that is. I was literally dripping with sweat after 10 minutes. My top was soaked, I had to wipe sweat off my eyelids with my wrist band (I would've died today without it), I felt like I was taking a shower. It was quite disgusting.
What was also disgusting was the way my backhand decided to fuck off and take a holiday today. I don't know what was going on, but I was framing so many shots I actually got frustrated at one point. "Actually" because I don't usually get annoyed when I play with NUS Wall Guy (I DON'T KNOW WHY), and nowadays I don't get annoyed much anymore 'cause there's not much point.
But today it was just egregious. So many shots hit the frame. So freaking many. SO. FREAKING. MANY. He tried to get me to half-volley a high ball, but it was mostly disastrous, no thanks to the ever-present racquet frame when I attempted to hit the ball on the rise.
It was definitely hard trying to run forward and time it so that I was at the correct position to hit the ball on the rise. It was much easier hitting a half-volley when I wasn't trying to hit a half-volley. Like NUS Wall Guy said, the shot is instinctive. It cannot be taught. It cannot be practised. When I made an effort to hit it, it failed miserably (always mis-timed and was always too late for it; when I reached the right spot the ball was already on its way up. The point was to hit it immediately after it bounces, hence "on the rise"); when I didn't seek to hit it, it just happened instinctively. Trying to get a ball over the net that's just hit the back of the baseline, and you're standing at the baseline? Half-volley it back on the backhand side. And it worked.
Despite the many crap backhands, today was good. The forehand's coming together pretty well so far. I'm trying to get some spin on the backhand which is proving way more difficult than it sounds, because I'm so used to hitting the ball flat that I have to actively remember to follow-through properly when I'm hitting a backhand. The fact that the backhand is my more consistent and better shot - the ball almost always makes it over the net, and the person at the other side sometimes cannot return it - gives me a bit less incentive to change it, but yeah, I wanna do this properly.
Wei Chuen is big on his strokes looking good when he plays squash. He told me the other night that he told his Jurong Junior squash team (he was the captain. Duh) that it didn't matter if they lost, as long as they look good losing. I kind of agree with that, in a way. I mean, sure you can get a ball over the net, but what good is that if 1) you're not doing it properly; and 2) you're looking butt-ugly in the process?
The backhand is tricky in this regard. On the one hand, I find it much easier to topspin when I'm holding the racquet parallel to the ground in terms of the back swing. On the other hand, that looks really ugly. I've seen players who hold the racquet upright when they're pulling it back in preparation to hit the ball and it looks so much better (see: Juan Martin Del Potro; Dinara Safina; Jelena Jankovic; Caroline Wozniacki. For the former back swing, see: Serena Williams; Andy Roddick; Gilles Simon). I tend to hold it upright, but on instances when I don't and hold it parallel to the ground instead, the topspin comes more naturally.
I'm pretty much spent from all the tennis. Shall take tomorrow off.
Having said that, I can't wait till I play again. There's just something awesome about hitting the ball correctly, seeing it go over the net, and feeling like you did it right. Especially after all the fucking effort I've put into it. It's even better when you're hitting winners deliberately, and controlling the direction in which the ball is heading. The ball now goes in the direction I want it to go, but half the time it's out.
Oh well. At least it goes where I want it to, I guess.