Closer

A good friend told me about a year ago, that I should watch this movie. I just caught it, 365 days later.

“Twisted” was what one of my old friends said last night when I mentioned it. It’s apparently one of those movies that make you wonder why the world is such, why we are such, and that everything in the movie is quite true.

And so I came home after a wonderful dinner with two old friends and downloaded the movie.

~ ** ~

It’s a holiday today. I got to sleep in a lot later. But then again, I woke up at half 4 to watch the game and to see a text message come in at quarter past 5 from Charlie.

It was funny cos Charlie comes and goes as he likes. I tried for a very brief moment to figure out what make Charlie ticks and why Charlie keeps on coming back. And then I stopped. I stopped trying to figure Charlie out cos WhiteBoy gave me my answer.

No one will ever love you as much as I do. Why isn't love enough?

I’m as perfect as anyone of them could ever ask for. I know that for a fact. I think at times, they can’t believe their good fortune on this note. And so now I ask a new question ~ at what price do I pay for being so perfect in another’s eyes?

You don't know the first thing about love, because you don't understand compromise.

~ ** ~

We sat around last night, trying to piece together a joint memory. Each one of us seemed to only recall bits and pieces of the 2 days and 1 night that we all shared together. It brings a smile to my face especially when I recall how carefree we were back then. No pretense. No excuses. No pauses.

Why do memories fade away? Why do we only remember the things we do? What qualifying criteria do we subconsciously apply when we have to free up space in our head and let go of things that we now forget?

Don't stop loving me. I can see it draining out of you.
It's me, remember? It was a stupid thing to do and it meant nothing.
If you love me enough, you'll forgive me.

~ ** ~

I’m having a late lunch with an ex-boyfriend in about an hour. We’re heading out to this suburban neighbourhood that we used to hang out in. As I said in my text to him just, “You used to try and kill me by making me walk up those hills early Sunday mornings!”

And we’re gonna talk cos in the end, he’s one of those people that I can sit and tell the truth to. One of those people I can risk bearing it all to cos he’s seen me at my best and he’s seen me at my worst. One of those people that I have said things to that I can never take back.

And I’m gonna tell him that I’m tired. That years on, I’m still tired. That I’m tired of being tired. But that I don’t know how to rest.

Everybody wants to be happy.
Depressives don't. They want to be unhappy to confirm they're depressed.
If they were happy they couldn't be depressed anymore.
They'd have to go out into the world and live.
Which can be depressing.

~ ** ~

I live for 2 days in a week.

Sundays cos I can lie in with L&L, horse around with them, walk with them by my side and hold their hands. And lately, Mondays cos that’s my name. Yups.. not Barbs or Barbsie but Monday. And strangely, it’s a name I’ve come to like.

The rest of the week – it comes and it goes. The sun rises and the sun sets. Work goes on and so does the traffic and the rain clouds. I fill them in with dinner with old friends, chill out sessions with my staff, my books and the Astro remote control.

Mondays are as perfect as days can be. Everything seems balanced and for a brief spell, I know that life is indeed a mystery. For a few hours, I know that I am a victim of Fate yet again.

How can one man be so endlessly disappointing?

~ ** ~

I think everyone seeks something in life when we almost have it all. That one big thing that eludes us most of the time. Some of us, when we find it, find that it’s not enough and we go on seeking it out. And for the rest of us, when we find it, we resist it, telling ourselves it’s not what we want and we go on.

Charlie’s text went unanswered. Knowing him, it’ll leave him pondering for a bit, then he’ll probably hit it up and drift off to sleep. That’s Charlie. Strange ain’t it? For someone I do not know well, I can bet my bottom dollar that I do know that much about him.

And in that moment when I chose to turn my phone off so he gets his answer in ways other than words, I became the Not Perfect person, without you knowing it. Just like everything else. And now I do not look forward to Mondays, at least not the next one.

There's a moment, there's always a moment,
"I can do this, I can give into this, or I can resist it",
and I don't know when your moment was,
but I bet you there was one.

I think I chose the wrong option in my moment. The very wrong option.

But then again, I think you already knew.