"I did not wait two months just to let you go."
**
**
I remember it drizzled that morning when I drove to the Samsonite shop in Bangsar. Dad was in the passenger seat and we were going to send in our bags for repair. The lining in Dad's ten year old bag (or 15, was it? 20?) had come off while the rubber for mine needed to be glued back. It was the fifth of September, and I was sending him to the airport that afternoon.
Friends do that for each other, right? They send each other off when it comes to long goodbyes. Two months to be exact. But it was weird, because I seemed to be the only friend who decided to take that drive and find my way with a roughly sketched map on three pieces of A4 paper.
I felt unsure.
After requesting for the repairs to be done ASAP because we needed the bags for when we leave for Sydney for my graduation at the end of the month , I took a walk outside the office and scrolled through my phone book for his number. It wasn't at the top of my list. Yet. I pressed the green button.
He asked if I would join him and his family for lunch.
I hesitated. Lunch? With his family? But, we don't even know what we are. Wait, we're friends. And friends can have lunches with another friend's family, couldn't we? Or should I just tell him I have eaten when I haven't?
But my stomach would have none of it and insisted I say "Yes." Funny. When I sat down at that dining table later in the day, I couldn't find my appetite and all I had were butterflies where my stomach should have been.
**
He hugged me. Tight. At the top of his stairs. His dad walked out of the room calling his name, and did a U-turn when he saw us. He didn't let go.
Until his dog jumped up on him to join in.
Now, when was the last time I hugged someone and knew I was going to be missing him too much? I watched him put his dog into the room and wondered if he had felt my heart beating that much faster when I realized I could lose myself in his arms.
I lost count of the number of times he locked and unlocked his luggage bag. Because he would zip it up then unzip it to slip in something that he had forgotten. Isn't there a weight limit? Then there was his camera bag. And his laptop backpack. Come to think of it, he had quite a lot of luggage for a guy.
I remember sitting on the couch in the living room. He sat on the arm rest and that allowed me to rest my head on his chest comfortably. I listened to his irregular heartbeat. He kissed my head. (Did he? Or was it just something I was imagining?) He told me my hair doesn't still smell of smoke from the night before, though now I only have a vague memory of where and what I had been doing. I remember I washed it, just in case we'd have a moment like this.
I was glad I did.
**
The drive felt long, but it wasn't long enough. Maybe it was because I was taking a new way to the LCCT and it always feels longer to get somewhere than to get back when it really isn't. It seemed at first that I had parked pretty far off from the shops and restaurants, but then again when we walked towards the McDonald's, each of us with a luggage bag in tow, it felt like it wasn't long enough either. Did I silently wish that it was my own bag I was pulling behind me?
I thought about the CD that he had burned for me. I thought about the hugs we were tentative about at first and then so willing to give when the reality of two months drew closer. I thought about the hole I deliberately made in his MU shirt, which he deliberately wore because he knew I was coming. I thought about when we were sitting quietly and just being with each other before we left for the airport in the living room. I thought about how right it felt when I rested my hand on his thigh while we were sitting at The Chocolate Lounge.
And then I thought about how he hugged me when he had to leave. I was the first. And the last. I thought about the kisses he left behind on my shoulder (though later I would find out he had meant them for my neck, cheeky boy). I thought about how afraid I was with how I felt. I thought about how he looked as he slowly disappeared up the escalator. I thought about what kind of songs would be in the CD he had burned for me.
I said my goodbyes to his parents and his brother's girlfriend, and then I jumped into my car, started the engine and didn't look back. Who is to say what can happen in two months, right? He could meet someone else, right? This could have just happened because of we were in the moment - you know, the whole airport feeling? I mean, right?
And then while I was lost in my thoughts, from his CD that was playing I heard a song I loved that I had never told him about.
Girl, you're every breath I take
Your love rules every move I make
And I know that you can't read my mind
And baby, maybe I
Don't say it as often as I should
But I really want it to be heard
When I say I love you that's for good
You have my word
That day after day after all
I will always be true
That's a promise I make to you
And then his sms came in.
Your love rules every move I make
And I know that you can't read my mind
And baby, maybe I
Don't say it as often as I should
But I really want it to be heard
When I say I love you that's for good
You have my word
That day after day after all
I will always be true
That's a promise I make to you
And then his sms came in.
You take this heart of mine
And make it better
I need you to
Come and walk with me through this life
Forever
And I know these words are long over due
And baby, maybe I
Don't say it as often as I should
But I really want it to be heard
When I say I love you that`s for good
You have my word
That day after day after all
I will always be true
That's a promise I make to you
And make it better
I need you to
Come and walk with me through this life
Forever
And I know these words are long over due
And baby, maybe I
Don't say it as often as I should
But I really want it to be heard
When I say I love you that`s for good
You have my word
That day after day after all
I will always be true
That's a promise I make to you
And then I cried.
And I took the slowest drive home from the airport, ever. I had a party to get ready for that night, afterall. He would call like he said he would, right?
And, he did.
**
On one night in the past week, I asked him how he could have loved me from a distance. I knew the answer. I asked him how could he have been sure I would have waited for him. I knew the answer. I asked him how would he have known that who I am in person, instead of over the phone or through emails or smses, would not have made him change his mind. I knew the answer.
And then with a smile he said, "I did not wait two months just to let you go."
