How to be brave.

Whenever my mum kisses me goodbye before going off in the morning, I want to tell her to take her with me. I will leave behind my life here in city and go home.

I will go back to hot dinner with my family every day. Back to my childhood best friend calling me to hang out at a place that I have went to for the last 24 years of my life. I will go back to a place where I know that the traffic light at the crossroad will take about 30 seconds before it's my turn to turn left or right. I will go back to the sea side that I grew up watching plane landings and horse races at, back to excruciatingly slow drivers on the right lane and all the lanes and food that is the epitome of home.

But I don't.

Instead, I tell her goodbye, closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

Tea and no cakes.

I have not seen him in a year. He has gotten a new hairstyle, new clothes. He has a new habit of running his hand through his hair when he's deep in thought or vulnerable. He said he has been trying to eat healthier, cut potatoes and rice. "More protein and veggies", he said to me, "It's better than not having anything to focus on."

We talked and laughed and enjoyed silence breaks in between tea sipping. Conversations filled to the brim with "I feel the same way too!", "How about you?", "I am really trying to be better," and "I need to hang out with you more often now that I'm back." I learn that he is really good with abs exercises now, likes the color green now and knows what he might do in the next 5 years career-wise. I have missed him. The last time I saw him, he was crying on his bathroom floor, paralyzed with pain. I have never seen or heard a heart break before. There was nothing I could do. How do you save someone who just lost his entire world?

Flash forward, there he sat. His world was rebuild, or at least that was what he is trying to tell me. We talked about everything but that night. I still didn't know why he disappeared, why he wanted to be alone. My questions were at the tip of my tongue. Anxiety had built up at the bottom of my stomach and has transformed into butterflies that might blurt out any seco-

"Why did you disappear?"

His eyes immediately clouded with disconcert, guilt and apologies. He lowered his gaze and knitted his eyebrows together. He continued to open and close his mouth with nothing coming out. He ran his hand through his hair, still looking down while clasping his hands together, left thumb on top. Of all the years I have known him, I know that when he clasped his hands together, he is in pain. My eyes flicker from the frown on his face to the left thumb that has now started to rub on his right thumb. I immediately regretted my question.

"I was in pain. I didn't know what else I could do..." He swallowed with his eyes fixated on the left thumb that never stopped rubbing his other thumb. "I know I shouldn't have done that but I don't know if I could still ask for your help anymore. It was beyond what you could give me. I had to go away..."

I took a huge gulp of water and blinked at him, confused. "You could have told me. You could have asked me to do something. I would anything for you." He still has not looked at me. His left thumb, still rubbing his right thumb. His lips, still a tight line.

Finally, he looked at me. I could see the pain reflecting in his eyes, his neck tensed while he was trying to keep himself together. Why did I bring this up and push him back to where he was trying so hard to get away from? "I still miss her. I still love her. I had to go away to know how to stop loving her." He swallowed again as if trying to gain what little bit of composure he had left. "I didn't leave because I didn't have believe that you will be there for me. I left because it was too painful to stay... I didn't know what else to do." He brought his hands to his chest and squeezed while taking a deep breath. The rubbing of his right thumb has slowed down but he still hasn't unclasped his hands.

The waiter came by to refill out drinks during the lull of our conversation. I had a feeling that I will be annoyed with her if she asked if everything was okay. Fortunately, guessing that she sensed the tension that was present within the radius of our table and she left quickly without a word. I was evidently still upset with him but he had good reason, personal reasons. I couldn't blame him for something that he had to do.

"What would you do if you had one wish?" I asked.

He chuckled weakly and his left thumb started playing with his right thumb nail. "Her," he said softly. "I want nothing else, no one else but her." I saw a small sad smile playing around the edges of his mouth, as if he was remembering something. He continued, "I still remember how I looked at her. I still remember how it felt like to kiss her. It felt like all the stars colliding into a bright meteor shower and the entire world disappearing. It felt like what forever should be like. It felt like everything that I wanted in every lifetime. It felt like she loved me too."

A marriage proposal that I will never get make.

I knew exactly what love looks like.

When I saw you at the airport, luggage in hand, 

eyes still hazy from sleep, I knew you were everything I could ever asked for.

When you wake up in the morning, grumpy, 

morning breath, shirt up to your stomach, 

love of my life.

If someone asked where I see myself in ten years,

"Me and her in a condo", I'd say.

We would have a big couch with white goose feather pillows,

a kitchen with brightly colored utensils.

I see us dancing in the living room, kissing with juice-stained lips,

We would try to count the stars from our bedroom window,

pretend we live in another galaxy, with our pet dog.

If someone asked where I see myself in ten years,

I say I'd be with you in our little piece of heaven,

Being loved by you is the most painless thing that I never deserved,

Being loved by you felt like turning at the last right on the way back home. 

You make me want to wave at strangers that pass by me,
make me want to go skydiving even though I have a fear of heights.

You make me feel like I can never drown when I swim,
like I can never die; and if I do, it's okay.

You make me feel like I have nothing to be afraid of. 

When I am with you, there was nothing I couldn't do.

Of all the times that I have pictured you in a wedding dress, 

this was the one time when I also see myself next to you. 

If I had a dollar for the times when people asked if I was sure,

I could pay for the rest of our lives. 

I get to hold your hand forever, wake up next to you, kiss you good night,

tell you to get milk, drive you to places, eat burgers - forever. 

You are my best friend and my soul mate.

When I kiss you, I can taste the next fifty years of my life.

I promise to love you, treasure you and call you Sugarpie for as long as I'm alive.
I love you so much.

Will you marry me?

20 seconds of insane courage.

They say sometimes it takes only twenty seconds of insane courage to do something outrageous. It takes 10 seconds for you to change your life. You could turn your life around or make a step so big that it's a leap. You could save someone's life or take your own. In April, I gave you my heart. It took me one second to make that leap. It took me one second of insane courage and loss of all common sense to kiss you.

Christmas Tree.

When I first met her, she was pretty, like Christmas ornaments that you see in November. They make you gasp in adoration and you wonder if you ever need them for your tree. Then you just shrug it off because it’s November, it’s too soon for Christmas.

When I first talked to her, it was like realizing the exact amount of red and green your Christmas tree needs to have. It was exciting and for the first time in a long time, I found what I needed in her. Slowly, her smile, her laugh, and her voice – those became the fairy lights that are later hung on to the Christmas tree.

She was the perfect Christmas tree that I found in November.

She is like a forest on a hazy night.

She is like a forest on a hazy night, the one that makes you question the existence of werewolves. Thick layers of moss cover tree trunks and rocks. It makes you wonder if moss turned into slime on nights like these. Sheets and sheets of mist and haze makes everything within five feet hard to see. You make out shapes and forms of the animals that lurk in the darkness but your vision might be mistaken. Her secrets were like these animals. You thought you knew them but you might be wrong. Sometimes you pay the price for being wrong.

Why do I want to live?

Every time I want to kill myself, I'd look for five reasons to not do it. I didn't want my reason to be friends, family and a bright future. I was stubborn. I wanted good reasons, reasons that will only impact my life to show that there is something to live for. For those who wonders, I try. Everything on my list is never repeated.

Once, the taste of a good juicy burger was among the five. Another time, being able to breathe in fresh air and taste the molecules at six in the morning was one. Some days I stop at three, after "I get to feel the texture of flower petals". There were not enough reasons left. Then, I let myself fall into the trap of a bad habit, which is a story for another day. Some days, I couldn't get past two. I didn't know if getting out of bed counted as one reason. I wanted to give up. I was tired.

Then, you turned up, all smiles and green contact lenses. Five months later, I asked myself, "why do I want to live?" One, you. You are everything. You are sunsets and sunrises, morning dew and night mists. You are the cold side of a pillow and a hot bowl of soup on a rainy day. You are the smell of grass after the rain and the song I sing in the shower. You are the heart that I draw on foggy windows and the red dragonfly I saw once outside a church. You are everything at once.

I still want to kill myself sometimes but since then, my list has never changed.

Eyelashes.

I have a problem these days. I realize I have a hard time writing. I used to be able to write about the difference between black and white, justifications on why I should eat more french fries. Now, when I write, I write about you.

My pen glides across the paper, trying commemorate everything that I could about you. For example, my favorite feature of yours is your eyebrows. I find them adorable. Whenever you look down, I like taking a peep at you because your eyelashes will be so obvious then. Unlike most, you don't need mascara to make them "stand". They do that on their own. I will be smiling to myself when you don't notice and you'll give me a "what" look.

Stars, parks and possibilities.

I want to watch the stars with you. I want to lie on top of a cheap blanket, in a park with you. We can complain about the amount of bugs that will be feasting on our very limited but tasty blood. We can also get annoyed at the possibly wet and prickly grass underneath the cheap blanket. Then, I know we'd probably agree unanimously that we'll never do that again.

However, in spite of how much we suffered, I think we'll keep going back to that spot to look at stars. We'll be smart. This time, the blankets will be around us. We'll probably be on a bench, with a blanket to keep us warm and protected, under a blanket of stars, The funny thing is that I'll probably be the one to plan this and it'll either be adorably romantic or horribly miscalculated.

Either way, I'll still want to watch the stars with you. If you'd let me, we could forget the stars for while.

To be wrong

I want to write about how you made the anxiety in my bones still. I want to write about the way the side of your eyes crinkle when you give me a mischievous smile. I want to climb on to the tallest mountains, just to scream "I love you" in to the clouds. I want to tell the world that loving someone can change so much of what you were so sure about.

Before I met you, I was so sure that the most annoying accent in the world is the mandarin accent when English is spoken. With that accent, came the complimentary broken English. I was so sure that I didn't like it. Of course, like I said, it was before I met you. Now your voice is my comfort. Your words became the Big Dipper that guides my way home when I get lost. I was so sure and then, I was wrong. And boy, I have never been this happy to be wrong.

Coffee, cakes and secrets.

I told a stranger about you today. I told her that I love someone, that I am in love with someone. We were standing in line in a coffee shop. She was nice and she looked very comfortable with that fuzzy jacket on. It was completely absurd that I was in that shop because I did not like coffee. I just wanted cake. Well, we both wanted cake. So, I went in to get cake and she was there.

She asked if I liked coffee. Obviously, my answer would be a no. Then, I told her that I have a friend who likes to try out different cakes from different shops. I knew I said "friend" but the thought of you, no matter what the title is, made me smile. I gushed that you didn't care what cake it was, it just had to be good. My mind was full of nothing but you. Cake didn't matter for a while.

I told her how you always forget that you're not alone in movie theatres. You would sit up in surprise during plot twists, with gasps so loud that people would turn to look at you. I didn't care. I held your hands and laughed while trying to get you to remember that we are among others. I told her that you think flower bouquets are a waste of money. Your ex-girlfriend got you flowers as an apology. Later, you found out that she was actually cheating on you so the flowers meant nothing. I didn't tell her that though.

I think I was whispering to myself when I talked about flowers. She smiled and asked, "Does she know?" I chuckled and nodded. A little too fast, I supposed. "You said "friend". What's stopping you?" she asked again, this time brows furrowing.

I felt my smile falter as I shrugged, "I am nothing more than another secret for her to keep."

When I heard that you cried.

When someone I love cries, my first reaction was to kiss them and say "I love you". When my little brother comes running to me in tears, I would put him on my lap and cuddle him. I would let him stay like that as long as he wants, until he feels better. I would kiss his cheek and just let him calm down.

So, when you told me that you cried, I instinctively hugged you. You buried your face on my neck and I feel you smile as you hugged me back. I tried my very best to resist the urge to kiss you on your head. I laughed and pulled you in for a tighter bear hug, which you oddly didn't wriggle away from. Then, I heard you laugh. It was light, delighted, like smelling hot chocolate on a rainy afternoon.

I swore I wouldn't care about anyone else but then, you appeared. Every time you say my name or look my way, I blew it, all of it. The sound of your name makes me do a double take. The sight of you makes my steps quicken. When you turn to smile at me, basically just noticing me, I get heart palpitations.

I am happy. After a long time, I am happy. You, you make me happy. For now, I really couldn't ask for anything more.

Love in Slow Motion.

I like watching people who are in love. I like how they light up at the name of the other. I like how they unconsciously break into a smile when they talk about this significant person. I like the way they blush and get gibberish. It is as if they're trying to squeeze all the sunshine, rainbows and good intentions of this person into one sentence. Obviously, you cannot contain a person's being into a sentence. So, they morph paragraphs and paragraphs of adoration into a never ending sentence, stitched together with commas and hyphens.

I have a friend who recently fell in love. I spend a lot of time listening to her talk about the details of her relationship. I didn't mind. I understand that she couldn't help it so I never stopped her from talking about it. Slowly, I found out that I learnt a lot about this guy that I only spoke to for about four times. I learnt that he likes to write letters. I learnt that he is very patient. I learnt that he likes burgers. I learnt that he was in love with her.

Maybe it's the way that his name rolls off her tongue like sweet honey. Maybe it's the way he purses his lips together and smiles after he says her name. Maybe it's the way both their gazes are so gentle but sure that it makes you want to look away. I asked her if she loves him. She hesitantly said yes, as if admitting would put her at a losing side. She always had doubt perched on her shoulders, feeding her the tale that she wasn't good enough. Sometimes I do wonder why people run from the things that they want. I also realize that they run faster when it is within reach or when they are already holding it.

She doesn't see the way that he looks at her, especially when she is embarrassed. I think that was the look of amusement and fondness. She is going to kill me for using the word "fond". She doesn't know about the way that he talks about her when she's not around. She doesn't know about the way that he waits for her. I saw him sitting on the sideway from the side of the road. His silhouette showed his hunched body and both his hands are clasped together with his elbows resting on his knees. He would turn to look if someone came down the stairs. He was a manifestation of calm waters and swooshing sea waves on a Saturday night. He simply sat there and waited, without any sign of impatience and anxiousness.

I believe that it is very beautiful to fall in love slowly. It is like reading a book. You get to slowly uncover secrets and stories that only that book can tell. The best part about reading a book that you already like is that you accept everything that the book throws at you. Just like everything else, you will always get one part that you don't particularly like. The most amazing thing about loving someone is that you don't try to fix them. You either readjust yourself to them or you both compromise.

I am not the best person to discuss what love is or what it is supposed to be. I have a very pessimistic view on things as vague and abstract as this. Maybe because of this, I am not often very happy. However, despite the fact that I refuse to open myself up to emotions, I am particularly drawn to genuine interactions and "in the moment" reactions. I remember how she hunches her shoulder and hides behind her left hand when she first talked about him. I remember how he panicked when "I" asked him why he didn't celebrate her birthday with her.

I am not a happy person because of the things that I refuse to believe in but I believe that it is possible to love and be loved, because I have seen it.

Happiness seen in a moment.

"I was there for a while and then, I.." I watched him while he was telling me a story. I had asked him about his life and the kind of changes that took place. He was said to be a very busy person but he seemed content. I was positively curious, and somehow intrigued.

I watched him as he talked about his move from a city to another big city, his "dead-end" job that he later quit after 4 months. He was animated and on the roll. His story consisted of misfits, mistakes, misheard directions and mischief. His tone was light as he described the tall and grey skyscrapers that pretty much resembled skeletons of the post-apocalyptic world in some movie that I have never heard of. It was like a little boy telling his mother about his day. He was excited and enthusiastic, and simply full of life.  

I asked him if he regretted moving so much because he mentioned that he was homeless once. I was genuinely concerned because to be homeless in a city that you have never been in is a completely disaster. He was amused with my question and it puzzled me. He obviously saw the puzzlement on my face because he answered immediately, "Yeah, it was horrible but I wouldn't change it for the world." I cocked my head to the side, now I was confused. I honestly thought that I was talking to a man who was completely out of it. He was casual, actually a little too casual which increases my curiosity but I patiently waited for his next sentence, as it looks like it was at the tip of his tongue.

"Then a few months later, I met her." He said, again in his casual tone. Then, something happened. He smiled, right after he said "her". No, it's not the type when you're trying to be nice. It's the type where you can tell the thought of "her" makes his world stop. His eyes closed in reflex and you can see the creases at the side of his eyes. His lips curled up involuntarily as he broke into a full, teeth-showing smile. His cheeks turned pink as he lowered his head at the thought of her. I have never seen someone so happy in a long time.

"You love her?" I asked. 

He nodded as he looked up to meet my eyes. "I love her so much." Just like this, his world made sense and his life was better. From that, I understood that spirit of his. He was happy about the good things, he wasn't even bothered by the bad things. Nothing can touch him, he can conquer the world, for her. The rest of our conversation continued from there. The smile on his face never faltered.

After that, I can never stop replaying the way he smiled at the though of her. It was so rare, so genuine and so human. He loves her and it shows on his face that he would give anything for her. Maybe being in love isn't bad thing, I can't be sure though. However, the thing at the moment was that he was happy so I was happy for him.