Sunshin3

Thank you for the flowers, the gifts and the birthday wishes. The process of turning 21 seems more administrative as i am bogged with application forms, bank calls, errands to run before i go on leave.

And only at 2am did i realise i forgot to put my out of office response.

So i celebrated my 21st birthday earlier than projected and quite impulsively as well. We ordered a bottle of Glenlivet at Wala and finished it within the 3 of us. It was a quite good thing i celebrated it earlier as Shirlyn announced that the Unexpected would be taking a break next week.

At the end of the third set and somewhere around 2am, we trooped over to Naughty Girl at Orchard Towers for more drinks. I was still steady pom pee pee until someone gave me alcoholic poisoning by inducting me with tequila shots and more whisky.

And then, I was gone. I can only recall faint glimpses of the whole evening thereafter. I remembered throwing up at some bridge (was it even a bridge?) and then I remembered throwing up some more in the taxi.

But what I really remembered was that Old boy was home, awake at 4 plus in the morning, waiting for me. He got the keys, opened the door for me, helped me up and cleaned me up. He fed me warm water, chocolates and cleaned up the bathroom and the floor where I threw up again and all these, without a word of complain.

And then he held me in his arms and soothe the blood that was rushing in my veins while i profusely said my apologies to him.

I don’t think he slept much but by the next morning, he made porridge for me and massaged me while i tried my very best to stay focused on my telephone conference the next day and get a draft document out to the client.

At the end of the whole episode, all he could say was that i was really funny when i was drunk.

-.-”

I know it’s not easy caring for someone who is imbibed with alcohol. Speaking of which, i am truly sorry to be an inconvenience to the people around me on Saturday night.

That aside, the affection and care he displayed was hard to let go. The consideration and selflessness that night made it impossible for me not to want him more or love him more.

It truly is.

Well not yet, but in another two weeks’ time.

Despite the pleas of my close friends, i have decided against celebrating my 21st as it wasn’t cost effective.

It’s not that i cannot afford to pull off my dream celebration (which only the two of you know by the way), but when you have things that you care more about than holding a celebration, every cent spent could be put to a better use.

Until then, i will be doing the same thing that i did for last year.

Honestly, it’s a bag of mixed reviews for the ending in my opinion.

Loyal supporters are assured of a season 3, that’s for sure. However, the problem with lots of drama series is that the longer the series gets, the plot either becomes too emotionally intense or they become too draggy.

With most, being the latter.

Good part of the ending was Dexter remained free from the chains of the law.

The painful part was watching Debra having to choose between the love of her life and the love for her brother.

Been in that shoes too many times.

But for once, i got to see Dex and Rita getting it on between the sheets..

I just hope Season 3 is better.

The weather over the weekend was terrible, to say the least. All plans over the weekend were shelved including attending a friend’s birthday party at East Coast. Considering that i was really looking forward to getting out for a walk, the rain was a bummer.

But because of the rain, I found time to brush up on my culinary efforts. Notice I mentioned efforts and not skills because of the obvious.

Old boy once taught me the joys of pork fat melting onto a pan of potatoes and sprinkled with lots of oregano. The last time he cooked it for us, it left me with tears in my eyes because of the sweetness of the potatoes and the tenderness of the meat. I tried the same with a cut of rib-eye that was marinated with lime, soya sauce, cooking wine, and black pepper previously.

Somehow, searing the meat was like an ode to Old boy all over again. After all, that was how he was. Sweet and tender.

That was Saturday.

Sunday was spent mixing pasta with pesto sauce on Sunday for dinner. And yes, he taught me that as well. Cutting the long beans, carrots, corns, crab meat, bacons and mince meat was easy but the difficulty was coordinating the right amount of milk with the pesto sauce. I lost count of the number of times my tasting spoon dipped onto the pesto sauce.

I don’t really know if I was a good student, since I was banking on serendipity to guide me through but I guess the meals I cooked were decent enough.

Now, if only I can have an epiphany on how to make foie gras.

With each touch and stroke, his eyelids grew heavier. I stayed in a corner, running my fingers down the same spot, and watched his eyes close. Despite the pain, he remained silent and steadily, the breathing slowed to an inaudible pace.

The snores followed subsequently and the boy slept, peacefully unaware that I was (six feet) under the bed, crushed and pushed by his sheer strength.

But I laughed it off anyway.

And for the first time, in a very long time, I finally realised why I never had dreams of him. Because I don’t need dreams to tell me that he knew just how to make everything alright.

I’ve come to a stage of realisation that i cannot deal with it anymore. Not from an emotional point, a mental point, a physical point or a psychological point.

I am tired, resentful, hurt and withdrawn. I do not feel a sense of acknowledgment, a sense of relief or a sense of sensibility in my actions. I can’t sleep, i barely have my appetite, I’m popping pills and perhaps even drinking, every day.

This isn’t me but yet i am now.

And what lies beneath is a choice.

The mere sound of the word ‘oncology’ is enough to strike fear in the hearts of many. Tomorrow is my scheduled appointment with the oncologist. As much as work is the excuse, i guess the main reason for the hesitation is the fear of finding out the truth.

Perhaps, in the process, i have encountered and heard of stories of men and women, God-fearing alike, who ask Him why them when things do not go their way. Yet what pains me is the reasoning behind, the thought process that they have on their quest to find out the answers.

Doing good deeds or volunteering for church activities will not give you the jailfree card that the Monopoly games have.

Just the other day, my colleagues and i were discussing about Him. Ironic as it seems, the women in my workplace all have relationship issues while the men appear to be pretty henpacked. But that aside, with the confessions, came the knowledge that the Church of present had lost its grounding and has become too commercialized.

Faith? Do you really understand what is faith or have you become like the masses, who interpret faith to be as logical as a mathematical equation? I know there is God, therefore, i have faith?

As i reflect, i feel for certain that i have stopped growing, i have stopped caring and it is evident from the present relationships that i have. I know no more than how to salvage a relationship now than perhaps 2 years back. Books of knowledge have helped me thus far but i need more.

And the best source?

You and i both know the answer.

For some strange reason this evening, i miss Old boy more. Maybe it was his warm embrace while we shared a moment in the kitchen, or maybe it was the love and effort he put in cooking for me, or maybe it’s the washed shirts that still have his scent on them.

I can’t really explain why or how but just, i miss him alot.