[V-Day] Selfish Love
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The glitch comes here, and I has to repost. (No, my grammar is okay; I just do that for fun)
“If life was described in a word, what will it be?”
“I dunno, there are too many words to choose from, you know.”
“Then, erm, if it was your life in a word, what will it be?”
“I believe that †˜life’ is the only way to describe life. If there was another word for it, then we will not be talking about this anymore, would we?”
“Such a predictable answer. Trying to impress young ladies with it, aren†˜t you?”
“Probably. How about yours then?”
“It would most probably be †˜love’.”
“I see why.”
LOVE
The young man and the young lady sat at the top of the building, feet dangling down, the girl’s slippers prepared at any moment, to do a fifteen-storey dive. The young man’s sneakers were white, with hot pink laces jutting out from the sneaker as a whole, and there was only a remote possibility of it having the same fate as the slippers.
A strong breeze blew and ruffled both of their hair, which, from the back, looked almost disturbingly similar. The young man chose not to tie his hair back, as did the girl, which resulted in a disastrous mess and tangle of their hair together. But right now, since they were not moving, both of them did not bother about it.
In the silence both of them sat, wondering where both of them would be next. The young girl is of Korean descent, with a Korean mother and Chinese father. Her mother having already moved back to her homeland, urged her to do so as well, and she agreed, hardly thinking about the guy next to him, unwilling for her to part from his life.
Distant thunder rumbled, sounding like an enormous cylinder rolling over. The young man sniffed, inhaling the damp air from a sky about to rain. He likes that smell, with its slight tinge, different from the dry, cold air from an air-conditioner, or the hot, wet air of the country on its normal days. Secretly, he too wanted to move to another country, a country that has seasons.
“Last day together, huh?” he asked, unable to keep the sadness out of his voice. Those eyes of his looked immensely sorrowful, his iris turning almost purple.
“Depends on how you want to see it,” she said vaguely, avoiding eye contact with him.
“How long are you going to sit here?” he asked, shifting the awkward subject aside. He was also a slight bit worried about the incoming thunderstorm, looking to be very menacing in the background from such a height,
“Until you get your mess of hair off me,” she pouted, both of them very, very close to each other right now, hoping that it would keep the hair close, keep the bond between them close, and that they will not separate.
He regarded her for a moment; her eyes were not one that was entirely devoid of regret either. Then both of them started to do the unconventional business of combing each others’ hair using their fingers gingerly, a way that they discovered, was much more efficient and painless procedure than simply yanking.
As a particularly stubborn clump of hair finally unravelled itself, the young lady moved a bit too hard off, shaking off one of her slippers. It took a pitch, twelve somersaults and approximately 500 degrees of spin for the slipper to land on the hard concrete with a cloud clatter and it snapped into two, eternally beyond repair.
“Oops.”she said detachedly, as both of them observed the entirety of the incident without so much as a shocked exclamation. She turned to look at her left foot, now deprived of its guard, looking quite vulnerable hanging there, without any cover.
The young man almost unconsciously went to a crouching position, ready to carry her. “Here,” she said, motioning for her to get on his back. She sheepishly tried to find a very un-intimate way to hold him while he was carrying her, but could not and gave up, securing both of her hands across his chest.
He stood up and did a fake grimace. “Man, you’re heavy,” he complained, with a wicked smile. He used his hands to prop up her skinny thigh, and started trudging forth, while the lady, exhausted from the day’s events (which did not only involve sitting on a roof, by the way) did not retort to that comment, but simply buried her head in his hair, trying to snuggle up and sleep.
As they reached the bus stop they came from, he dare not place her down, for she was already quite fast asleep, but the bus came in to solve his problem, its loud screeches in front of the bus stop doing the thing the young man tried to avoid. Groaning, she woke up with eyes bleary and paid for her fare, as the young man supported her so that her bare foot will not hit the ground.
The young lady sat on the seat closer to the window, and almost immediately fell asleep. The young man plopped himself down beside her, also worn from the exercise of carrying her for at least a kilometre’s worth of distance. The lady seemed to have taken a liking for his hair, for the first thing after she fell asleep was for her head to make a dive back into his hair, looking as though she was searching for the same spot that allowed her to fall asleep in the first place. He smiled weakly, and patted her head gently, trying not to wake her up and incur her wrath.
When the lady woke up she found herself back at home, alone. Her father was still not back yet, as was her sister. The young man took the liberty of carrying her back home, opening the door, and laying her on her bed. She rubbed her eyes, peering around. It was closing in to night, and the last shreds of the orange sun burned into her room, filling it up with an unnatural glow.
She noticed a cue card placed on her table; a pink one, the kind that the young man would use, but not her, so it would most probably be a message from him. She picked it up, using the little sunlight that is left to read his neat, yet artistic handwriting.
To the only girl that purrs:
I take that you really are serious about leaving. There is no reason for you not to, with me being quite a nuisance, and pissing you off so many times. It already is a miracle that you came out with me today, and I’m thanking my stars already.
Life was never fair to anybody in the first place. I am not asking for you to be my girlfriend right now. If everyone gets their wishes fulfilled so easily, there would either be world peace, or destruction, depending on how many good or bad buys there are. From this, I learnt that no, life is not that straightforward. No ordinary person can find their true love on their first, or even second shot. It might be the third, the fifth, the tenth, the hundredth, or even the thousandth (which by then, I would presume that the person is better off dying or writing rejection guides). I might find the One tomorrow, next week, or even twenty years from now. No rule said that I have to get married by twenty, and I think I learnt this the hard way.
There is a simple reason that I’m not trying to force this upon you. You are the freest soul I have ever seen, and one of the most stubborn ones as well. If I was to force anything so important on you, you would never have liked it, and all the good memories left inside you (I believe they exist, do they?) will dissipate, or at least be tainted by my selfish actions.
What is love, anyways? For me I think that love is something that is mortal, a selfish characteristic in us. Think about it. If we want to love somebody, we cannot love another person just as strongly, nor can the relationship stay as it is, for the person being loved, and the people around that same person. There is no way you could love every single person the same, nor could you even like every single person in the first place.
Selfish act or not, yes, I do love you. But you have to remember, that my love counts for nothing if you don’t want any of it. I’m going to wave you goodbye tomorrow, with no ticket in hand, even though I could have bought one. I’m going to respect your decision of going back to Korea.
But if you really do want to stay, I’ll be waiting.
-Vixen.
She ran out of the house immediately, trying to find the guy, to tell him how much she loved her, that the choice was an accident, and that she had already called back to her mother that she will be staying, and she did not buy any ticket in the first place. She wiped the tears that flowed down her cheeks; unknowingly, while she read the letter, she started crying. Only now, she knew of the pain of losing someone she loved, that even though she had always denied it, gave excuses that she would not and can not fall in love, she already had someone steal her heart away.
The young lady was now reduced into a sobbing wreck, a mess that melted onto the floor, crying out his name over and over again. It would have made for a very strange, yet touching sight; a young lady of age eighteen, sitting on the floor of a pavement, crying her heart out, for someone that has just left her, not just physically, but mentally as well.
“Its just been a day, and this is what happens?” his father returned, holding dinner for two in his hands. “Your sister is staying out for dinner. Got himself a decent boyfriend, at last. What’s wrong? You look a bit sad.” (in this case, the young lady’s father is very much prone to understatements like this)
“Oh, dad!” she hugged him tightly, now really hoping that she knew his address, that she knew where the young man lived, so that she can be right next to him right now, that she could tell him that the letter that he wrote was unnecessary, that she, despite all the mean words said to him, fell in love. She actually planned to tell him the good news as they were going home, but sleep got the better of her, and such a tragedy ended up happening.
He did not appear on the airport the next day, nor did he show up at her door, looking for her, anxious as he missed his appointment. In fact, he did not show up at all, disappearing from her world, causing her to cry every single night. Her heart shattered, broken into a million tiny little jagged edges, impeding anyone, including herself, to try and save her from the wreck that she is. “Painful thing, love. It could make you melt with joy in an instant, or dump you at the end of the world,” she remembered a sentence from one of their elongated conversations. She thought she had experienced it all, that the low of love was something that she could overcome more easily than the last. Seems like it isn’t any different, she thought. The intensity of this.. pain is dependent on the depth of the love that one has.
A month after his unknown disappearance, her mother gave her a very interesting call indeed. “I found someone that I think, is looking for you,” the sounds of her handing over the phone to someone, someone over at Korea, someone she believed to be dead, or at least gone from her life forever.
“Hey,” she heard his weak voice, sounding quite tired over the phone.
“YOU BLOODY IDIOT! I WAS ABOUT TO TELL YOU THAT I’M STAYING IN SINGAPORE, AND YOU DO THIS TO ME?” the month of pent-up frustration of not seeing him all came out at that moment, hating him for not telling her his next move, that he bloody lied and flew off anyways, and she hated herself, most of all, for missing him so much, and being so dependent on him unknowingly.
“Sorry. I guess I’ll have to explain everything to you when I fly back,” he said weakly, and the phone was passed back to her mother.
“Not a bad young man, I would say. At least, he showed the conviction by flying all the way over here. But he certainly took his time to locate this residence.” she commented in Korean, turning to her native tongue, so that the young man beside him cannot eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Is… Is he alright?” her voice quavered as she asked, afraid of stepping into some unknown territory with her mother, how has never heard that she had some male this close to her before.
“Healing up. He survived one whole month out there on the street, m’ dear. When he found me, he was in quite the state, dishevelled and all. It took me quite a while to trust this young man, and properly feed him, but he did earn my trust, and a little respect to go along with it. Looks like he’s the serious kind about your relationship,” she added the last sentence jokingly, but both of them knew how serious that was. “I’m going to send him back, or are you coming over?”
“Send him over, and make him pay for it. He needs to be punished a little, I guess,” she said, as unconsciously, she began to calculate the time he needed to travel from her house to Seoul, then the time for the flight. She sighed, a hopeless case in this story of love.
Arystar
Three years has went by since then, and by some force of nature or another, Sin Yee and I are not together. Goddamn.
Sin Yee
Three years have went by since then, and no, we’re not together. All thanks to him.
He was the one who started with all the stupid †˜possessive’ things, forcing me to do so much stuff, sticking his nose into places which he shouldn†˜t. I do not belong to him. I will never belong to him.
Arystar
Alright, I admit it. I was a little too possessive over her. But who would not want to see their girlfriend everyday? Who would not want to shower as much concern over her? And she can reject concern? That’s amazing.
I always took the blame for many things, even when I know that most probably, someone else did it. I’m not boasting or anything, but that’s just the way I am. I live better this way. But, even though I initially took the blame for the breakdown of this relationship, I find it harder and harder not to blame her as well.
Recount 1
“So, can you?” Arystar asked Sin Yee, as he was following her home.
“I think so, but…” Sin Yee was nervous, for he had ventured into a more sensitive topic for her.
“Come on, it’s only a meal with your parents, not the official things yet. I believe your father must be quite excited to see me,” Arystar smiled as he reached for Sin Yee’s hand, and placed it on his lap. “I could ask beforehand for things like the dowry, how many guests will be invited, the colour of your wedding dress…” Arystar got cut off by Sin Yee’s other hand covering her mouth, and the one on his lap painfully pinching his thigh at the same time.
“Oww. Did I really guess your thoughts?” he asked, after managing to prise off both her hands, more gently than expected.
“Not going to answer,” Sin Yee turned her already reddened cheeks away from him, embarrassed by him talking about marriage so quickly, and angry at him even suggesting it in the first place, knowing very well she will be embarrassed.
Arystar just smiled and grabbed hold of her right hand using his left, clinking the two identical couple rings worn on their index fingers together. She smiled at that; it was a sign that reconfirmed their status as a couple, and she was elated when there was finally something to represent their relationship.
Sin Yee
Even after three months, I still do not know why I did not throw the ring away yet.
It lies sitting on my clustered makeup table, right in the middle with a little space cleared out for it, reminding me of what happened, and what could have been.
Why do I still think of him, when it’s his fault?
Was I really too harsh?
I don’t know. I really don’t want to know.
Arystar
Maybe it’s just like me to be sentimental. I loved her so much, yet, now I question myself daily, whether that love was true or not. It is more scary, I guess, to think that one’s love is fake, rather than actually loving a person that I shouldn’t have.
The now sad clink of the ring with my other phone accessory, a red star, are two painful reminders.
Oh, Catherine, if you hear me in heaven, I boldly ask for strength to bring me through this.
Recount 2
“Eh? A graveyard? For a date?” Sin Yee asked, incredulous at what he was asking from her.
“Nah, it’s not a date, but more of a meeting with my other girlfriend,” Arystar smiled, a bittersweet smile that made her think that the smile was forced. “Catherine Harving was my girlfriend when I was fifteen, and she died on this day two years ago, to an overdose of heroin.”
“Oh, I’m sorry…” Sin Yee gasped, not knowing that he had such a tragic past behind him. Only seventeen and he had to bear the ugly scar of a having loved one die.
“Nah, it’s ok. Besides, if I’m about to show you her grave, why apologise for asking?” Arystar was smiling at her direction. Although his smile was dazzling, Sin Yee already knew that the smile was fake; he was still very much upset on her death. It made her feel jealous a little, but she immediately regretted getting jealous of a dead person, of being so sensitive herself.
“I gave her those things myself, you know. His brother was an addict, and she wanted me to help her. Then, her drug-crazed brother gave him an overdose while she was sleeping,” the shocking story of how his girlfriend died. “Right after the funeral, I kneeled in front of her grave for the whole day, and it was the same the next year. Even though her brother did not say who the drugs was from, I felt a moral responsibility to at least do that. It’s quiet here.”
As he said that, they reached the grave, much cleaner compared to all the others around the graveyard, with the picture of a very, very beautiful young lady on the gravestone. “Hey, Cat. Guess who I brought today,” he said, kneeling down at the same time. “It’s your second death anniversary, but with Sin Yee in tow, I doubt I’ll kneel here the whole day. So I’ll just stay here for a while. I’ll make up to you some day, I promise.
“I’ve already told you about Sin Yee and the whole incident, so I won’t repeat myself to you. I already feel our relationship deepening, and I hope you can wish both of us the best of luck. It feels weird, doesn’t it? Me asking you for blessings, when you were always the one needing my help, and sometimes rubbing of my luck,” the same bittersweet smile came on his face, as Sin Yee stood patiently beside Arystar, waiting for him to finish.
He continued to kneel, now in silence. The sounds of the birds chirping from the trees nearby, with the occasional breeze to rustle the lush green leaves and crisp brown ones on the ground made the area sound so serene, and with the slight mist of the whole graveyard, it makes the area feel so… unreal. Arystar was right about it being quiet, and usually she would avoid going to places that have a reputation for ghost movies, but like most of the dead here, she found peace in this almost forsaken area.
A soft “thank you” was muttered as Arystar stood up, and holding Sin Yee’s hand, he bowed, and walked off slowly with her, still in silence, but now, the soft clinking of the two rings on the couple’s hands added a much happier ring (no pun intended) to the deserted graveyard.
Arystar
The only place where I could find comfort and solace is here with you, Cat. No place else.
Would you forgive me, if I lost my girlfriend so carelessly? Would you forgive me, when I say that my love for her is doubted?
You are my beacon of light, Catherine. At dark moments like these, I hope you can lead me, to become a better person, to learn, to mature once again.
I still do remember the funky conversations we had. Once, you said that no matter who one loves, it always needs feedback, or else it will eat you out from the inside. To which, I, who usually could think of a retort to any of the statements you make, could only nod and agree. I always thought of you to be the brighter one of us two, and even though you are a bit of a klutz at times, there was always an aura of intelligence around you, and I guess that was also one of the reasons I fell in love with you.
I feel like dying now. Partly so that I can join you, partly because I believe I have sinned enough.
Can I?
Sin Yee
I stare at the ring. The ring stares back.
Along with the multitude of other items that Arystar has given to me. So much of him has been littered around me.
Was my life revolving around him?
I refuse to believe so. No matter how much he has been my life, his friends my friends, my name’s still Ho Sin Yee. I’m still half-Korean. I am still me.
But can I say I never had a part of me filled by him?
I hate him for whatever he’s done. I hate myself for being so weak.
How come I feel that I hate myself more than hating him?
Recount 3
“No. it’s my family problem, so to be harsh, it’s none of your business,” Sin Yee pouted as she had just complained to Arystar about her troublemaking sister, and he immediately wanted to step in to help her sister.
“Hey, I’m trying to show just a little concern here. If you think it’s not necessary, I won’t budge into your business. But know that…” Arystar got cut off mid-sentence by a hand over his mouth.
“That you’d always come in to help when it’s needed. But no, I don’t think we should help her, at least for now. She needs to learn to solve her own problems, not letting others clean up after her.” Sin Yee looked slightly peeved, and Arystar did not want to push the issue further, for he might start to strain on the relationship.
“True. I guess if you’re finished with your ranting, we’ll move on then. Anything you crave for in particular?” he asked, for they were out to get lunch, before she started all of the complaining.
“Hmm… I guess that Western will do just nice.”
“As you wish, my dear ojou-sama,” he added a mock bow for more dramatic effect, while Sin Yee, never a big fan of theatrics, slapped his arm at the side, embarrassed that he would do this.
“Ah, the tsundere type, eh?” Arystar grinned wickedly, teasing her as he led her to one of he nicer western restaurants around.
“Don’t give me all of those Japanese crap, you otaku. I’m half-Korean. KOREAN, not Japanese,” she was looking peeved again this time round, but both of them know that the other party is kidding, and just having fun mocking and teasing each other.
Lunch did not go by the usual way they would spend it, which was them talking about trivial stuff at first, bickering over the smallest of issues, before broadening into more mature topics of life, death and the occasional political comment.
Also, the couple only had time for the conversation over lunch, for both of them had other activities after it. Usually, Arystar would have took the effort to accompany Sin Yee to any location she had to go, but due to Arystar’s tight schedule that day, he could not afford to do so, and was quite apologetic for that. “You don’t have to apologise so many times,” Sin Yee said halfway during their lunch when she felt he had apologised one too many time. “It’s not like getting robbed or kidnapped by taking public transport in broad daylight is that common, and besides, it’s always good to get some distance away from you, you creepy jerk.”
“Man, I’m a creepy jerk for being your bodyguard? How cruel,” Arystar made a sad pleading face, managing to imitate a poor lost puppy perfectly.
“Aww.. Poor doggy. Nah, it’s the good old †˜distance makes the heart grows fonder’ thing. You’ll find more reasons to stick around me tomorrow if we leave this early, so I’m not worrying.” Sin Yee smiled impishly, now slightly more comfortable speaking about her relationship in the open.
Suddenly, Arystar reached over and kissed her, right while she was still chewing on food. Her face immediately turned red, and almost choked on the salad she was eating.
“Hmm, tastes like lettuce. But I’m thankful already, for it could be something worse,” Arystar replicated the same impish smile she had just a moment ago, while looking much more happier than usual.
“Don’t kiss me like that!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flaring up to be as red as strawberries, the cry drawing attention from the other nearby diners as well. Not wanting to draw more attention to herself, she continued her lunch in silence, while reading the mood superbly, Arystar also kept quiet while he finished his steak.
The bill was always footed by the richer Arystar, and he made it no exception this time. As they left the restaurant, Sin Yee walked quickly out of it, as Arystar hastened to catch up to her.
Sin Yee
Walking around my neighbourhood has become a bother, with unwanted memories popping up at every corner. I wandered aimlessly around, seeing only him and me, sharing beautiful moments together. Secretly, a part of me wanted to reconcile with him, to hope that our relationship could heal.
Crossing the road with headphones on, I heard my name called, faintly in the background. Must be some shop owner giving out more freebies. Ignoring the voice, I stepped into the path of two bright lights, and a very loud horn.
Arystar
She was right there, walking around, looking for nothing.
Or was she looking for me?
I don’t know. I don’t want to approach her. I only want to get something from…
No way. That silly girl’s walking right into a car.
“SIN YEE!”
Those earphones are really going to kill her.
What else could I do? No matter however much she has done, I still couldn’t think of not placing my life on the line for this.
I charged at her, hoping to whatever god that’s listening for me to get there in time to save her.
Recount 4
“Hey, wait up! Are you that upset by just one kiss?” Arystar grabbed her hand, only for her to shake it away.
“You knew it was my first kiss, so why take it away so unfashionably?” tears started to well up on Sin Yee’s eyes. She was sad that Arystar could not understand that even though she did want him to take it, but it was so sudden, so unexpected, that his kiss felt wrong to her somehow, as though he was trying to make something happen.
“I’m sorry if you wanted a build-up before me kissing you, but a kiss is still a kiss. I doubt that where and how would matter, if we can get to kiss so many more times than one,” Arystar gave a more sensible answer, but he did not seem in any way, apologetic towards her.
“No,” Sin Yee said, as she walked away, leaving behind a very confused Arystar.
Later that night, when Sin Yee was lying on her bed, recounting the day’s turn of events, a phone call from Arystar came over.
“What?” Sin Yee asked in an irritated tone.
“I only called to ask you to accompany me to a basketball match that I’ll be playing in tomorrow. Will you be free?” Arystar knew what was wrong, but deliberately ignoring the topic.
“No. Who would want to watch a selfish, possessive idiot play ball? And you obviously know I’m only into badminton,” Sin Yee replied, more harsh than she actually should have been.
“If you like to do this kind of childish stuff, fine by me. Is there really anything wrong with giving my girlfriend a kiss?” Arystar’s voice was still not raised, keeping his calm, but still, he had limits as a person.
The brittle and uncaring tone was carried over to Sin Yee’s side, as she retorted back. “I do not belong to you. Stop trying to be someone that interferes in every single aspect of my life.”
“I seriously hope that you can either rephrase your words, or really prove me wrong. Can’t I show concern to you? Can’t I at least ask to try and help you out? You are one of a kind, you know. The first one who can reject concern, and still speak as though what I did was completely wrong,” Arystar’s voice was getting softer and softer, something that in the past, Sin Yee used to avoid, as it meant that he was close to blowing his top. But this time, she did not care how angry Arystar was; she was to say her piece, and no one can stop her from that.
“Don’t act so high and mighty for all those weird fetishes you have with controlling and manipulating people. I will not be controlled, nor will I be your puppet any longer,” she said all those demeaning words in a rush, and even after half a minute, the line was dead silent.
“If you wish,” Arystar did not want to drag the quarrel on any longer, and hung up.
Sin Yee
Somebody crash tackled me. That somebody got hit by the car instead of me.
Oh no.
Arystar got hit.
I ran over to him as fast as I could, panicking, worrying for him. It took an accident, for me to realise all those words I said to him, all those times I walked past him coldly, how I wish I could take them back, to make it up to him, to redo the past, so the present wouldn’t be like this. Tears went down my cheeks faster than my footsteps, where even the few metres I had to run to get to Arystar looked like a marathon.
“Why?” I choked out, holding a dying Arystar in my lap, coughing and spluttering blood.
“You silly girl. I never once wanted to own you, but simply treat you as if you were my girlfriend. Just forgive me, if I overextended myself,” his weak voice now sounded so far away, something slipping away from my bare hands. “And why are you still wearing my ring, may I ask?” Still affording to tease me on the verge on his death. Oh, Arystar.
“Because I love you, you silly nut,” I said, smiling back at him. “Don’t go, Arystar. If you do, I’ll marry you!” I made a promise to myself that so long as he survives, I will marry him, no matter what happens. Arystar’s eyes perked for a moment, before returning back to its pained look.
“So, there’s no need for dowry then? And you get to wear a hot pink wedding dress?” Arystar asked, breath already weakening.
“Yes, and if you want, cat ears to go along with it was well. Just don’t go, Arystar. Don’t go,” I clutched him tightly, not caring about blood seeping onto my tee, just wanting to hold him for as long as possible. He mustered whatever strength he had left, and hugged me back, just for a second. The second felt like it lasted for an eternity, and just as Arystar loosened his grip, the ambulance arrived, and I could only remember me being dragged along to the hospital, bawling like a baby all the way.
~Three weeks later~
What else could I do, but sit and wait beside a comatose Arystar? There were so many movies showing these kind of scenes for love-stricken couples, that I thought it was all fiction. Never will I ever leave his side again. So please, Arystar, just wake up.
“Oww. My head hurts,” contrary to how the fingers should have twitched first, like in any other good drama serial, he simply chose to wake up in the grandiose fashion of complaining. But awake was awake nonetheless, and I could only hug him as tightly as I could, treasuring every moment of his rebirth.
“Who are you again?”
Part 3:
The four words cut into me so deeply, the only thing I had left to do was to back up, gasp, and promptly faint.
Waking up in the bed next to him, he smiled innocently at me; that smile, that was so real, but so painful, because he’s smiling at me like a stranger, and not a lover.
After a consultation from the doctor, he said his memory might be injured, and will begin to recover information after he’s awake, but how much, and who he can recall, is based entirely by luck. He could vividly recall his parents, and most of his older friends that came to visit, but he lost the memory sometime after fourteen years of age.
At night, he came over to my side, while I was too busy crying my eyes out over the loss of his memory.
“Hey, mysterious girlfriend,” he started off jokingly, so like what he would have done. “I know you’re sad that I can’t remember you, but why not let’s start over, so that when I do, it’ll be more fun for both of us, having to look back at this period of our lives?”
“Really?” I sniffled, his speech so convincing to me.
“Why not? Is it really that bad for people to wait for something? And it’s not like there’s nothing for both of us to do either,” Arystar smiled sweetly back, and even without lights, the whole room was lit up by his dazzling smile. “Oh, and you could fill me in on what happened to me, if you want to, for I’m curious on how lucky I was, to have gotten myself such a cute and caring young lady as my girlfriend.”
I blushed at the compliment, so sure that he either had his memory back and was teasing me already, or did not have his memory back, but having the urge to say such mushy words anyways.
“Don’t … say it in such a romantic manner, you idiot,” I said, turning around, even though he would not make out my cherry-like face.
“Well, now else can I describe my girlfriend? Although, technically, I need to acquire my memory back first before I can say that, but heck. Even if I don’t I’l still date you.”
“How… how about marrying me?” I asked, stuttering my way through what is going to be a revelation to him. If possible, I blushed even harder, and he came and sat down on my bed.
“Tell me what happened to have made you say that,” his voice was soft and soothing, coaxing me, making me more relaxed, much like how the old Arystar also used to do when he got me all flustered.
“Well… I was idiotic enough to walk into the path of a car, and you pushed me out of it, only to be …” my lips trembled, ready to let loose the waterworks once again. Curse the female sentimentality issue. Arystar, being the boyfriend that he should have been, came over to pat me on the head with his left hand. His right was a mess, from what I had seen. The doctors had casts all over him (save his legs, which miraculously escaped with only surface injuries), with the medical diagnosis being “a nearly-crushed right arm, fractures in his left forearm and three ribs, five more broken ribs, minor spinal damage, one slightly dented lung, and three other vital organs pushed out of position, but he can still live with that.” At that point, my not-so-reliable sense of self-control left me and I went leaning on Arystar’s broken frame, mourning over how badly he was.
“Hey, don’t worry about me. A few scars will make me look more buff, although you could lean more lightly on me,” Arystar grimaced, a bittersweet smile to let know although it’s ok to lean, but I had to be more gentle. So, both of us were in a weird position of half-hugging each other, bathed in the cold moonlight. The lesson learnt: life is fragile. All of us have to learn to love everyone around us, every moment of our lives.
As he fell asleep on my bed, I set him down softly, not waking him up. I guess the look of your other half sleeping is a scene one would like to treasure, and I kind of understood how unglamorous I was when he carried me back. It was great that he did not die of laughter or anything like that, because I know for a fact that I sleep in weird positions and make weirder noises when I fall asleep.
Going to his bed now, I smelt his pillow, with the smell of him resembling almonds. Sweet almonds. The bed still had a little body warmth left in it, so the only thing I had left to do was snuggle into his bed, and feel the warmth of him, a person that’s sleeping soundly to my right.
Getting screwed in the morning for sleeping on the wrong bed is not something you would want to get. Both of us smiled at each other; his smile more apologetic because he fell asleep first. “It’s ok,” I whispered to him. “Your bed smells nicer than mine.”
***
A month after Arystar waking up, he still could not remember me. He cried when he remembered Catherine, and identified all the incidents up till his last day before I got him into the accident, save for the ones that are with me. Talk about the priority of his memory.
I worry every single night, on whether he will get his memory back or not. But every time he greets me with that innocent smile, every time I wanted to recount our history my tears start to well up, for he cannot, for the love of god, remember me.
Arystar knew I was crying myself to sleep almost everyday, he said,“Hey, don’t cry on me. I guess the best thing for us to do is to build up another relationship quickly, so that you won’t be so sad.” At which he tried to cuddle me, but failed because he’s still hurting all over. What he said made sense as well, but I wanted so badly to make up to him for all my silly actions, and not delve into some other relationship, albeit when what I want to do are on the same person.
So silly of me. I made a big mistake by blaming him for the kiss, when all he did was to make sure I really was her girlfriend. Looking back, I felt myself to be so childish by ignoring him the whole time, when it was all along, my own fault. Sorry just does not cut it right now, so I’m not even going to bother to say it.
For a human, he heals his wounds at an amazing rate, coupled with his gigantic appetite. Other than the fact that I always see him eating something, his fractures healed in a week and his body already starting to rejoin the broken ribs. Also, another shocking thing is that his parents were paying enough for a ridiculous injection that could, in theory, rebuild his arm. And they said that his parents were the one who engineered the very thing. I really wonder how crazy his parents are.
So, what else can I do? I can only wait, and wait. I guess this is the kind of punishment I get for refusing to admit my mistake. But still, I want to make it up to him so badly, or else I think just starting over is cheating.
Arystar was sitting in bed, reading a book and sucking on a sweet. As I entered the room, he smiled, this time the greeting for a friend. Even though it was an improvement, I still long to see his smile, the smile he only shows to the most intimate of people. Oh, greedy me. It’s always like this, you know. When he was dying, I only wanted him to live. Yes, he did live on, but he lost his memory, and now I want it back. And it was the same when our relationship started at first; I demanded for him to always be better, to be almost able to read my mind. When can this ever stop?
“The doctors said I’ll be out in another month or so, based on my improvement. My crushed arm’s pain residing already, and is set to heal in three more months,” he said it nonchalantly, as if crushed limbs regenerating are everyday occurrences. Not wanting to question his parent’s methods, I skipped the interesting topic, to go on to a more interesting one.
“Can you remember me yet?” the question asked every single day, at the start and end of any meeting.
“No. It’s hard, when there’s so much of you mixed up in my new memory that I will never be clear which would be the you before or after I lost my memory.” Arystar smiled weakly, turning his attention from the book to her. “I think it’s okay like that. I still know you…”
“NO WAY! You have to recover your memory or else…” my shout turns into a sob, being the one with more hormones raging than a thirteen-year old on alcohol.
“You take jokes so seriously, Kit.” Arystar smiled impishly, miraculously doing two things that stunned me at once. First, his impish smile was the exact same one that he did after he kissed me, and †˜Kit’ was one of my older nicknames, which he decided to use, when we first met, to tease me.
“You… you bloody idiot! You remembered, don’t you!” I crash-hugged the annoying bugger, so much more secure now that I knew the fact that he actually can remember me.
“Owwch. Relax a little on the hug, can you?” he was stroking my hair on my back, something he liked to do in the past as well.
“Playing with me like that. You deserve the pain,” I said, squeezing harder on him, wanting never to let him go. “And you’re right, you know. I realised how selfish love is. I know how painful it is to lose a loved one. So please, I think I can safely say †˜to have and to hold from this day onwards, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, from this day on, till death does us apart’.”
“And yes, I agree.” he smiled, and even in the face of pain, hugged me back. I love him, and even though it’s a selfish love, all love is selfish, and that would never be able to stop us anyways.
“If life was described in a word, what will it be?”
“I dunno, there are too many words to choose from, you know.”
“Then, erm, if it was your life in a word, what will it be?”
“I believe that †˜life’ is the only way to describe life. If there was another word for it, then we will not be talking about this anymore, would we?”
“Such a predictable answer. Trying to impress young ladies with it, aren†˜t you?”
“Probably. How about yours then?”
“It would most probably be †˜love’.”
“I see why.”
LOVE
The young man and the young lady sat at the top of the building, feet dangling down, the girl’s slippers prepared at any moment, to do a fifteen-storey dive. The young man’s sneakers were white, with hot pink laces jutting out from the sneaker as a whole, and there was only a remote possibility of it having the same fate as the slippers.
A strong breeze blew and ruffled both of their hair, which, from the back, looked almost disturbingly similar. The young man chose not to tie his hair back, as did the girl, which resulted in a disastrous mess and tangle of their hair together. But right now, since they were not moving, both of them did not bother about it.
In the silence both of them sat, wondering where both of them would be next. The young girl is of Korean descent, with a Korean mother and Chinese father. Her mother having already moved back to her homeland, urged her to do so as well, and she agreed, hardly thinking about the guy next to him, unwilling for her to part from his life.
Distant thunder rumbled, sounding like an enormous cylinder rolling over. The young man sniffed, inhaling the damp air from a sky about to rain. He likes that smell, with its slight tinge, different from the dry, cold air from an air-conditioner, or the hot, wet air of the country on its normal days. Secretly, he too wanted to move to another country, a country that has seasons.
“Last day together, huh?” he asked, unable to keep the sadness out of his voice. Those eyes of his looked immensely sorrowful, his iris turning almost purple.
“Depends on how you want to see it,” she said vaguely, avoiding eye contact with him.
“How long are you going to sit here?” he asked, shifting the awkward subject aside. He was also a slight bit worried about the incoming thunderstorm, looking to be very menacing in the background from such a height,
“Until you get your mess of hair off me,” she pouted, both of them very, very close to each other right now, hoping that it would keep the hair close, keep the bond between them close, and that they will not separate.
He regarded her for a moment; her eyes were not one that was entirely devoid of regret either. Then both of them started to do the unconventional business of combing each others’ hair using their fingers gingerly, a way that they discovered, was much more efficient and painless procedure than simply yanking.
As a particularly stubborn clump of hair finally unravelled itself, the young lady moved a bit too hard off, shaking off one of her slippers. It took a pitch, twelve somersaults and approximately 500 degrees of spin for the slipper to land on the hard concrete with a cloud clatter and it snapped into two, eternally beyond repair.
“Oops.”she said detachedly, as both of them observed the entirety of the incident without so much as a shocked exclamation. She turned to look at her left foot, now deprived of its guard, looking quite vulnerable hanging there, without any cover.
The young man almost unconsciously went to a crouching position, ready to carry her. “Here,” she said, motioning for her to get on his back. She sheepishly tried to find a very un-intimate way to hold him while he was carrying her, but could not and gave up, securing both of her hands across his chest.
He stood up and did a fake grimace. “Man, you’re heavy,” he complained, with a wicked smile. He used his hands to prop up her skinny thigh, and started trudging forth, while the lady, exhausted from the day’s events (which did not only involve sitting on a roof, by the way) did not retort to that comment, but simply buried her head in his hair, trying to snuggle up and sleep.
As they reached the bus stop they came from, he dare not place her down, for she was already quite fast asleep, but the bus came in to solve his problem, its loud screeches in front of the bus stop doing the thing the young man tried to avoid. Groaning, she woke up with eyes bleary and paid for her fare, as the young man supported her so that her bare foot will not hit the ground.
The young lady sat on the seat closer to the window, and almost immediately fell asleep. The young man plopped himself down beside her, also worn from the exercise of carrying her for at least a kilometre’s worth of distance. The lady seemed to have taken a liking for his hair, for the first thing after she fell asleep was for her head to make a dive back into his hair, looking as though she was searching for the same spot that allowed her to fall asleep in the first place. He smiled weakly, and patted her head gently, trying not to wake her up and incur her wrath.
When the lady woke up she found herself back at home, alone. Her father was still not back yet, as was her sister. The young man took the liberty of carrying her back home, opening the door, and laying her on her bed. She rubbed her eyes, peering around. It was closing in to night, and the last shreds of the orange sun burned into her room, filling it up with an unnatural glow.
She noticed a cue card placed on her table; a pink one, the kind that the young man would use, but not her, so it would most probably be a message from him. She picked it up, using the little sunlight that is left to read his neat, yet artistic handwriting.
To the only girl that purrs:
I take that you really are serious about leaving. There is no reason for you not to, with me being quite a nuisance, and pissing you off so many times. It already is a miracle that you came out with me today, and I’m thanking my stars already.
Life was never fair to anybody in the first place. I am not asking for you to be my girlfriend right now. If everyone gets their wishes fulfilled so easily, there would either be world peace, or destruction, depending on how many good or bad buys there are. From this, I learnt that no, life is not that straightforward. No ordinary person can find their true love on their first, or even second shot. It might be the third, the fifth, the tenth, the hundredth, or even the thousandth (which by then, I would presume that the person is better off dying or writing rejection guides). I might find the One tomorrow, next week, or even twenty years from now. No rule said that I have to get married by twenty, and I think I learnt this the hard way.
There is a simple reason that I’m not trying to force this upon you. You are the freest soul I have ever seen, and one of the most stubborn ones as well. If I was to force anything so important on you, you would never have liked it, and all the good memories left inside you (I believe they exist, do they?) will dissipate, or at least be tainted by my selfish actions.
What is love, anyways? For me I think that love is something that is mortal, a selfish characteristic in us. Think about it. If we want to love somebody, we cannot love another person just as strongly, nor can the relationship stay as it is, for the person being loved, and the people around that same person. There is no way you could love every single person the same, nor could you even like every single person in the first place.
Selfish act or not, yes, I do love you. But you have to remember, that my love counts for nothing if you don’t want any of it. I’m going to wave you goodbye tomorrow, with no ticket in hand, even though I could have bought one. I’m going to respect your decision of going back to Korea.
But if you really do want to stay, I’ll be waiting.
-Vixen.
She ran out of the house immediately, trying to find the guy, to tell him how much she loved her, that the choice was an accident, and that she had already called back to her mother that she will be staying, and she did not buy any ticket in the first place. She wiped the tears that flowed down her cheeks; unknowingly, while she read the letter, she started crying. Only now, she knew of the pain of losing someone she loved, that even though she had always denied it, gave excuses that she would not and can not fall in love, she already had someone steal her heart away.
The young lady was now reduced into a sobbing wreck, a mess that melted onto the floor, crying out his name over and over again. It would have made for a very strange, yet touching sight; a young lady of age eighteen, sitting on the floor of a pavement, crying her heart out, for someone that has just left her, not just physically, but mentally as well.
“Its just been a day, and this is what happens?” his father returned, holding dinner for two in his hands. “Your sister is staying out for dinner. Got himself a decent boyfriend, at last. What’s wrong? You look a bit sad.” (in this case, the young lady’s father is very much prone to understatements like this)
“Oh, dad!” she hugged him tightly, now really hoping that she knew his address, that she knew where the young man lived, so that she can be right next to him right now, that she could tell him that the letter that he wrote was unnecessary, that she, despite all the mean words said to him, fell in love. She actually planned to tell him the good news as they were going home, but sleep got the better of her, and such a tragedy ended up happening.
He did not appear on the airport the next day, nor did he show up at her door, looking for her, anxious as he missed his appointment. In fact, he did not show up at all, disappearing from her world, causing her to cry every single night. Her heart shattered, broken into a million tiny little jagged edges, impeding anyone, including herself, to try and save her from the wreck that she is. “Painful thing, love. It could make you melt with joy in an instant, or dump you at the end of the world,” she remembered a sentence from one of their elongated conversations. She thought she had experienced it all, that the low of love was something that she could overcome more easily than the last. Seems like it isn’t any different, she thought. The intensity of this.. pain is dependent on the depth of the love that one has.
A month after his unknown disappearance, her mother gave her a very interesting call indeed. “I found someone that I think, is looking for you,” the sounds of her handing over the phone to someone, someone over at Korea, someone she believed to be dead, or at least gone from her life forever.
“Hey,” she heard his weak voice, sounding quite tired over the phone.
“YOU BLOODY IDIOT! I WAS ABOUT TO TELL YOU THAT I’M STAYING IN SINGAPORE, AND YOU DO THIS TO ME?” the month of pent-up frustration of not seeing him all came out at that moment, hating him for not telling her his next move, that he bloody lied and flew off anyways, and she hated herself, most of all, for missing him so much, and being so dependent on him unknowingly.
“Sorry. I guess I’ll have to explain everything to you when I fly back,” he said weakly, and the phone was passed back to her mother.
“Not a bad young man, I would say. At least, he showed the conviction by flying all the way over here. But he certainly took his time to locate this residence.” she commented in Korean, turning to her native tongue, so that the young man beside him cannot eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Is… Is he alright?” her voice quavered as she asked, afraid of stepping into some unknown territory with her mother, how has never heard that she had some male this close to her before.
“Healing up. He survived one whole month out there on the street, m’ dear. When he found me, he was in quite the state, dishevelled and all. It took me quite a while to trust this young man, and properly feed him, but he did earn my trust, and a little respect to go along with it. Looks like he’s the serious kind about your relationship,” she added the last sentence jokingly, but both of them knew how serious that was. “I’m going to send him back, or are you coming over?”
“Send him over, and make him pay for it. He needs to be punished a little, I guess,” she said, as unconsciously, she began to calculate the time he needed to travel from her house to Seoul, then the time for the flight. She sighed, a hopeless case in this story of love.
Arystar
Three years has went by since then, and by some force of nature or another, Sin Yee and I are not together. Goddamn.
Sin Yee
Three years have went by since then, and no, we’re not together. All thanks to him.
He was the one who started with all the stupid †˜possessive’ things, forcing me to do so much stuff, sticking his nose into places which he shouldn†˜t. I do not belong to him. I will never belong to him.
Arystar
Alright, I admit it. I was a little too possessive over her. But who would not want to see their girlfriend everyday? Who would not want to shower as much concern over her? And she can reject concern? That’s amazing.
I always took the blame for many things, even when I know that most probably, someone else did it. I’m not boasting or anything, but that’s just the way I am. I live better this way. But, even though I initially took the blame for the breakdown of this relationship, I find it harder and harder not to blame her as well.
Recount 1
“So, can you?” Arystar asked Sin Yee, as he was following her home.
“I think so, but…” Sin Yee was nervous, for he had ventured into a more sensitive topic for her.
“Come on, it’s only a meal with your parents, not the official things yet. I believe your father must be quite excited to see me,” Arystar smiled as he reached for Sin Yee’s hand, and placed it on his lap. “I could ask beforehand for things like the dowry, how many guests will be invited, the colour of your wedding dress…” Arystar got cut off by Sin Yee’s other hand covering her mouth, and the one on his lap painfully pinching his thigh at the same time.
“Oww. Did I really guess your thoughts?” he asked, after managing to prise off both her hands, more gently than expected.
“Not going to answer,” Sin Yee turned her already reddened cheeks away from him, embarrassed by him talking about marriage so quickly, and angry at him even suggesting it in the first place, knowing very well she will be embarrassed.
Arystar just smiled and grabbed hold of her right hand using his left, clinking the two identical couple rings worn on their index fingers together. She smiled at that; it was a sign that reconfirmed their status as a couple, and she was elated when there was finally something to represent their relationship.
Sin Yee
Even after three months, I still do not know why I did not throw the ring away yet.
It lies sitting on my clustered makeup table, right in the middle with a little space cleared out for it, reminding me of what happened, and what could have been.
Why do I still think of him, when it’s his fault?
Was I really too harsh?
I don’t know. I really don’t want to know.
Arystar
Maybe it’s just like me to be sentimental. I loved her so much, yet, now I question myself daily, whether that love was true or not. It is more scary, I guess, to think that one’s love is fake, rather than actually loving a person that I shouldn’t have.
The now sad clink of the ring with my other phone accessory, a red star, are two painful reminders.
Oh, Catherine, if you hear me in heaven, I boldly ask for strength to bring me through this.
Recount 2
“Eh? A graveyard? For a date?” Sin Yee asked, incredulous at what he was asking from her.
“Nah, it’s not a date, but more of a meeting with my other girlfriend,” Arystar smiled, a bittersweet smile that made her think that the smile was forced. “Catherine Harving was my girlfriend when I was fifteen, and she died on this day two years ago, to an overdose of heroin.”
“Oh, I’m sorry…” Sin Yee gasped, not knowing that he had such a tragic past behind him. Only seventeen and he had to bear the ugly scar of a having loved one die.
“Nah, it’s ok. Besides, if I’m about to show you her grave, why apologise for asking?” Arystar was smiling at her direction. Although his smile was dazzling, Sin Yee already knew that the smile was fake; he was still very much upset on her death. It made her feel jealous a little, but she immediately regretted getting jealous of a dead person, of being so sensitive herself.
“I gave her those things myself, you know. His brother was an addict, and she wanted me to help her. Then, her drug-crazed brother gave him an overdose while she was sleeping,” the shocking story of how his girlfriend died. “Right after the funeral, I kneeled in front of her grave for the whole day, and it was the same the next year. Even though her brother did not say who the drugs was from, I felt a moral responsibility to at least do that. It’s quiet here.”
As he said that, they reached the grave, much cleaner compared to all the others around the graveyard, with the picture of a very, very beautiful young lady on the gravestone. “Hey, Cat. Guess who I brought today,” he said, kneeling down at the same time. “It’s your second death anniversary, but with Sin Yee in tow, I doubt I’ll kneel here the whole day. So I’ll just stay here for a while. I’ll make up to you some day, I promise.
“I’ve already told you about Sin Yee and the whole incident, so I won’t repeat myself to you. I already feel our relationship deepening, and I hope you can wish both of us the best of luck. It feels weird, doesn’t it? Me asking you for blessings, when you were always the one needing my help, and sometimes rubbing of my luck,” the same bittersweet smile came on his face, as Sin Yee stood patiently beside Arystar, waiting for him to finish.
He continued to kneel, now in silence. The sounds of the birds chirping from the trees nearby, with the occasional breeze to rustle the lush green leaves and crisp brown ones on the ground made the area sound so serene, and with the slight mist of the whole graveyard, it makes the area feel so… unreal. Arystar was right about it being quiet, and usually she would avoid going to places that have a reputation for ghost movies, but like most of the dead here, she found peace in this almost forsaken area.
A soft “thank you” was muttered as Arystar stood up, and holding Sin Yee’s hand, he bowed, and walked off slowly with her, still in silence, but now, the soft clinking of the two rings on the couple’s hands added a much happier ring (no pun intended) to the deserted graveyard.
Arystar
The only place where I could find comfort and solace is here with you, Cat. No place else.
Would you forgive me, if I lost my girlfriend so carelessly? Would you forgive me, when I say that my love for her is doubted?
You are my beacon of light, Catherine. At dark moments like these, I hope you can lead me, to become a better person, to learn, to mature once again.
I still do remember the funky conversations we had. Once, you said that no matter who one loves, it always needs feedback, or else it will eat you out from the inside. To which, I, who usually could think of a retort to any of the statements you make, could only nod and agree. I always thought of you to be the brighter one of us two, and even though you are a bit of a klutz at times, there was always an aura of intelligence around you, and I guess that was also one of the reasons I fell in love with you.
I feel like dying now. Partly so that I can join you, partly because I believe I have sinned enough.
Can I?
Sin Yee
I stare at the ring. The ring stares back.
Along with the multitude of other items that Arystar has given to me. So much of him has been littered around me.
Was my life revolving around him?
I refuse to believe so. No matter how much he has been my life, his friends my friends, my name’s still Ho Sin Yee. I’m still half-Korean. I am still me.
But can I say I never had a part of me filled by him?
I hate him for whatever he’s done. I hate myself for being so weak.
How come I feel that I hate myself more than hating him?
Recount 3
“No. it’s my family problem, so to be harsh, it’s none of your business,” Sin Yee pouted as she had just complained to Arystar about her troublemaking sister, and he immediately wanted to step in to help her sister.
“Hey, I’m trying to show just a little concern here. If you think it’s not necessary, I won’t budge into your business. But know that…” Arystar got cut off mid-sentence by a hand over his mouth.
“That you’d always come in to help when it’s needed. But no, I don’t think we should help her, at least for now. She needs to learn to solve her own problems, not letting others clean up after her.” Sin Yee looked slightly peeved, and Arystar did not want to push the issue further, for he might start to strain on the relationship.
“True. I guess if you’re finished with your ranting, we’ll move on then. Anything you crave for in particular?” he asked, for they were out to get lunch, before she started all of the complaining.
“Hmm… I guess that Western will do just nice.”
“As you wish, my dear ojou-sama,” he added a mock bow for more dramatic effect, while Sin Yee, never a big fan of theatrics, slapped his arm at the side, embarrassed that he would do this.
“Ah, the tsundere type, eh?” Arystar grinned wickedly, teasing her as he led her to one of he nicer western restaurants around.
“Don’t give me all of those Japanese crap, you otaku. I’m half-Korean. KOREAN, not Japanese,” she was looking peeved again this time round, but both of them know that the other party is kidding, and just having fun mocking and teasing each other.
Lunch did not go by the usual way they would spend it, which was them talking about trivial stuff at first, bickering over the smallest of issues, before broadening into more mature topics of life, death and the occasional political comment.
Also, the couple only had time for the conversation over lunch, for both of them had other activities after it. Usually, Arystar would have took the effort to accompany Sin Yee to any location she had to go, but due to Arystar’s tight schedule that day, he could not afford to do so, and was quite apologetic for that. “You don’t have to apologise so many times,” Sin Yee said halfway during their lunch when she felt he had apologised one too many time. “It’s not like getting robbed or kidnapped by taking public transport in broad daylight is that common, and besides, it’s always good to get some distance away from you, you creepy jerk.”
“Man, I’m a creepy jerk for being your bodyguard? How cruel,” Arystar made a sad pleading face, managing to imitate a poor lost puppy perfectly.
“Aww.. Poor doggy. Nah, it’s the good old †˜distance makes the heart grows fonder’ thing. You’ll find more reasons to stick around me tomorrow if we leave this early, so I’m not worrying.” Sin Yee smiled impishly, now slightly more comfortable speaking about her relationship in the open.
Suddenly, Arystar reached over and kissed her, right while she was still chewing on food. Her face immediately turned red, and almost choked on the salad she was eating.
“Hmm, tastes like lettuce. But I’m thankful already, for it could be something worse,” Arystar replicated the same impish smile she had just a moment ago, while looking much more happier than usual.
“Don’t kiss me like that!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flaring up to be as red as strawberries, the cry drawing attention from the other nearby diners as well. Not wanting to draw more attention to herself, she continued her lunch in silence, while reading the mood superbly, Arystar also kept quiet while he finished his steak.
The bill was always footed by the richer Arystar, and he made it no exception this time. As they left the restaurant, Sin Yee walked quickly out of it, as Arystar hastened to catch up to her.
Sin Yee
Walking around my neighbourhood has become a bother, with unwanted memories popping up at every corner. I wandered aimlessly around, seeing only him and me, sharing beautiful moments together. Secretly, a part of me wanted to reconcile with him, to hope that our relationship could heal.
Crossing the road with headphones on, I heard my name called, faintly in the background. Must be some shop owner giving out more freebies. Ignoring the voice, I stepped into the path of two bright lights, and a very loud horn.
Arystar
She was right there, walking around, looking for nothing.
Or was she looking for me?
I don’t know. I don’t want to approach her. I only want to get something from…
No way. That silly girl’s walking right into a car.
“SIN YEE!”
Those earphones are really going to kill her.
What else could I do? No matter however much she has done, I still couldn’t think of not placing my life on the line for this.
I charged at her, hoping to whatever god that’s listening for me to get there in time to save her.
Recount 4
“Hey, wait up! Are you that upset by just one kiss?” Arystar grabbed her hand, only for her to shake it away.
“You knew it was my first kiss, so why take it away so unfashionably?” tears started to well up on Sin Yee’s eyes. She was sad that Arystar could not understand that even though she did want him to take it, but it was so sudden, so unexpected, that his kiss felt wrong to her somehow, as though he was trying to make something happen.
“I’m sorry if you wanted a build-up before me kissing you, but a kiss is still a kiss. I doubt that where and how would matter, if we can get to kiss so many more times than one,” Arystar gave a more sensible answer, but he did not seem in any way, apologetic towards her.
“No,” Sin Yee said, as she walked away, leaving behind a very confused Arystar.
Later that night, when Sin Yee was lying on her bed, recounting the day’s turn of events, a phone call from Arystar came over.
“What?” Sin Yee asked in an irritated tone.
“I only called to ask you to accompany me to a basketball match that I’ll be playing in tomorrow. Will you be free?” Arystar knew what was wrong, but deliberately ignoring the topic.
“No. Who would want to watch a selfish, possessive idiot play ball? And you obviously know I’m only into badminton,” Sin Yee replied, more harsh than she actually should have been.
“If you like to do this kind of childish stuff, fine by me. Is there really anything wrong with giving my girlfriend a kiss?” Arystar’s voice was still not raised, keeping his calm, but still, he had limits as a person.
The brittle and uncaring tone was carried over to Sin Yee’s side, as she retorted back. “I do not belong to you. Stop trying to be someone that interferes in every single aspect of my life.”
“I seriously hope that you can either rephrase your words, or really prove me wrong. Can’t I show concern to you? Can’t I at least ask to try and help you out? You are one of a kind, you know. The first one who can reject concern, and still speak as though what I did was completely wrong,” Arystar’s voice was getting softer and softer, something that in the past, Sin Yee used to avoid, as it meant that he was close to blowing his top. But this time, she did not care how angry Arystar was; she was to say her piece, and no one can stop her from that.
“Don’t act so high and mighty for all those weird fetishes you have with controlling and manipulating people. I will not be controlled, nor will I be your puppet any longer,” she said all those demeaning words in a rush, and even after half a minute, the line was dead silent.
“If you wish,” Arystar did not want to drag the quarrel on any longer, and hung up.
Sin Yee
Somebody crash tackled me. That somebody got hit by the car instead of me.
Oh no.
Arystar got hit.
I ran over to him as fast as I could, panicking, worrying for him. It took an accident, for me to realise all those words I said to him, all those times I walked past him coldly, how I wish I could take them back, to make it up to him, to redo the past, so the present wouldn’t be like this. Tears went down my cheeks faster than my footsteps, where even the few metres I had to run to get to Arystar looked like a marathon.
“Why?” I choked out, holding a dying Arystar in my lap, coughing and spluttering blood.
“You silly girl. I never once wanted to own you, but simply treat you as if you were my girlfriend. Just forgive me, if I overextended myself,” his weak voice now sounded so far away, something slipping away from my bare hands. “And why are you still wearing my ring, may I ask?” Still affording to tease me on the verge on his death. Oh, Arystar.
“Because I love you, you silly nut,” I said, smiling back at him. “Don’t go, Arystar. If you do, I’ll marry you!” I made a promise to myself that so long as he survives, I will marry him, no matter what happens. Arystar’s eyes perked for a moment, before returning back to its pained look.
“So, there’s no need for dowry then? And you get to wear a hot pink wedding dress?” Arystar asked, breath already weakening.
“Yes, and if you want, cat ears to go along with it was well. Just don’t go, Arystar. Don’t go,” I clutched him tightly, not caring about blood seeping onto my tee, just wanting to hold him for as long as possible. He mustered whatever strength he had left, and hugged me back, just for a second. The second felt like it lasted for an eternity, and just as Arystar loosened his grip, the ambulance arrived, and I could only remember me being dragged along to the hospital, bawling like a baby all the way.
~Three weeks later~
What else could I do, but sit and wait beside a comatose Arystar? There were so many movies showing these kind of scenes for love-stricken couples, that I thought it was all fiction. Never will I ever leave his side again. So please, Arystar, just wake up.
“Oww. My head hurts,” contrary to how the fingers should have twitched first, like in any other good drama serial, he simply chose to wake up in the grandiose fashion of complaining. But awake was awake nonetheless, and I could only hug him as tightly as I could, treasuring every moment of his rebirth.
“Who are you again?”
Part 3:
The four words cut into me so deeply, the only thing I had left to do was to back up, gasp, and promptly faint.
Waking up in the bed next to him, he smiled innocently at me; that smile, that was so real, but so painful, because he’s smiling at me like a stranger, and not a lover.
After a consultation from the doctor, he said his memory might be injured, and will begin to recover information after he’s awake, but how much, and who he can recall, is based entirely by luck. He could vividly recall his parents, and most of his older friends that came to visit, but he lost the memory sometime after fourteen years of age.
At night, he came over to my side, while I was too busy crying my eyes out over the loss of his memory.
“Hey, mysterious girlfriend,” he started off jokingly, so like what he would have done. “I know you’re sad that I can’t remember you, but why not let’s start over, so that when I do, it’ll be more fun for both of us, having to look back at this period of our lives?”
“Really?” I sniffled, his speech so convincing to me.
“Why not? Is it really that bad for people to wait for something? And it’s not like there’s nothing for both of us to do either,” Arystar smiled sweetly back, and even without lights, the whole room was lit up by his dazzling smile. “Oh, and you could fill me in on what happened to me, if you want to, for I’m curious on how lucky I was, to have gotten myself such a cute and caring young lady as my girlfriend.”
I blushed at the compliment, so sure that he either had his memory back and was teasing me already, or did not have his memory back, but having the urge to say such mushy words anyways.
“Don’t … say it in such a romantic manner, you idiot,” I said, turning around, even though he would not make out my cherry-like face.
“Well, now else can I describe my girlfriend? Although, technically, I need to acquire my memory back first before I can say that, but heck. Even if I don’t I’l still date you.”
“How… how about marrying me?” I asked, stuttering my way through what is going to be a revelation to him. If possible, I blushed even harder, and he came and sat down on my bed.
“Tell me what happened to have made you say that,” his voice was soft and soothing, coaxing me, making me more relaxed, much like how the old Arystar also used to do when he got me all flustered.
“Well… I was idiotic enough to walk into the path of a car, and you pushed me out of it, only to be …” my lips trembled, ready to let loose the waterworks once again. Curse the female sentimentality issue. Arystar, being the boyfriend that he should have been, came over to pat me on the head with his left hand. His right was a mess, from what I had seen. The doctors had casts all over him (save his legs, which miraculously escaped with only surface injuries), with the medical diagnosis being “a nearly-crushed right arm, fractures in his left forearm and three ribs, five more broken ribs, minor spinal damage, one slightly dented lung, and three other vital organs pushed out of position, but he can still live with that.” At that point, my not-so-reliable sense of self-control left me and I went leaning on Arystar’s broken frame, mourning over how badly he was.
“Hey, don’t worry about me. A few scars will make me look more buff, although you could lean more lightly on me,” Arystar grimaced, a bittersweet smile to let know although it’s ok to lean, but I had to be more gentle. So, both of us were in a weird position of half-hugging each other, bathed in the cold moonlight. The lesson learnt: life is fragile. All of us have to learn to love everyone around us, every moment of our lives.
As he fell asleep on my bed, I set him down softly, not waking him up. I guess the look of your other half sleeping is a scene one would like to treasure, and I kind of understood how unglamorous I was when he carried me back. It was great that he did not die of laughter or anything like that, because I know for a fact that I sleep in weird positions and make weirder noises when I fall asleep.
Going to his bed now, I smelt his pillow, with the smell of him resembling almonds. Sweet almonds. The bed still had a little body warmth left in it, so the only thing I had left to do was snuggle into his bed, and feel the warmth of him, a person that’s sleeping soundly to my right.
Getting screwed in the morning for sleeping on the wrong bed is not something you would want to get. Both of us smiled at each other; his smile more apologetic because he fell asleep first. “It’s ok,” I whispered to him. “Your bed smells nicer than mine.”
***
A month after Arystar waking up, he still could not remember me. He cried when he remembered Catherine, and identified all the incidents up till his last day before I got him into the accident, save for the ones that are with me. Talk about the priority of his memory.
I worry every single night, on whether he will get his memory back or not. But every time he greets me with that innocent smile, every time I wanted to recount our history my tears start to well up, for he cannot, for the love of god, remember me.
Arystar knew I was crying myself to sleep almost everyday, he said,“Hey, don’t cry on me. I guess the best thing for us to do is to build up another relationship quickly, so that you won’t be so sad.” At which he tried to cuddle me, but failed because he’s still hurting all over. What he said made sense as well, but I wanted so badly to make up to him for all my silly actions, and not delve into some other relationship, albeit when what I want to do are on the same person.
So silly of me. I made a big mistake by blaming him for the kiss, when all he did was to make sure I really was her girlfriend. Looking back, I felt myself to be so childish by ignoring him the whole time, when it was all along, my own fault. Sorry just does not cut it right now, so I’m not even going to bother to say it.
For a human, he heals his wounds at an amazing rate, coupled with his gigantic appetite. Other than the fact that I always see him eating something, his fractures healed in a week and his body already starting to rejoin the broken ribs. Also, another shocking thing is that his parents were paying enough for a ridiculous injection that could, in theory, rebuild his arm. And they said that his parents were the one who engineered the very thing. I really wonder how crazy his parents are.
So, what else can I do? I can only wait, and wait. I guess this is the kind of punishment I get for refusing to admit my mistake. But still, I want to make it up to him so badly, or else I think just starting over is cheating.
Arystar was sitting in bed, reading a book and sucking on a sweet. As I entered the room, he smiled, this time the greeting for a friend. Even though it was an improvement, I still long to see his smile, the smile he only shows to the most intimate of people. Oh, greedy me. It’s always like this, you know. When he was dying, I only wanted him to live. Yes, he did live on, but he lost his memory, and now I want it back. And it was the same when our relationship started at first; I demanded for him to always be better, to be almost able to read my mind. When can this ever stop?
“The doctors said I’ll be out in another month or so, based on my improvement. My crushed arm’s pain residing already, and is set to heal in three more months,” he said it nonchalantly, as if crushed limbs regenerating are everyday occurrences. Not wanting to question his parent’s methods, I skipped the interesting topic, to go on to a more interesting one.
“Can you remember me yet?” the question asked every single day, at the start and end of any meeting.
“No. It’s hard, when there’s so much of you mixed up in my new memory that I will never be clear which would be the you before or after I lost my memory.” Arystar smiled weakly, turning his attention from the book to her. “I think it’s okay like that. I still know you…”
“NO WAY! You have to recover your memory or else…” my shout turns into a sob, being the one with more hormones raging than a thirteen-year old on alcohol.
“You take jokes so seriously, Kit.” Arystar smiled impishly, miraculously doing two things that stunned me at once. First, his impish smile was the exact same one that he did after he kissed me, and †˜Kit’ was one of my older nicknames, which he decided to use, when we first met, to tease me.
“You… you bloody idiot! You remembered, don’t you!” I crash-hugged the annoying bugger, so much more secure now that I knew the fact that he actually can remember me.
“Owwch. Relax a little on the hug, can you?” he was stroking my hair on my back, something he liked to do in the past as well.
“Playing with me like that. You deserve the pain,” I said, squeezing harder on him, wanting never to let him go. “And you’re right, you know. I realised how selfish love is. I know how painful it is to lose a loved one. So please, I think I can safely say †˜to have and to hold from this day onwards, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, from this day on, till death does us apart’.”
“And yes, I agree.” he smiled, and even in the face of pain, hugged me back. I love him, and even though it’s a selfish love, all love is selfish, and that would never be able to stop us anyways.