The Four Items
Took me the hunt for a can of salmon to realize how upset I was over things not turning quite right lately.
Salmon, tea, Snickers and/or Picnic bar to be exact.
Those who claim to know me will claim to know that I adhere strictly to what I claim to be my codes of diplomacy.
I am always, under any and all circumstances, diplomatic.
Tonight there was a departure from that code.
So there I be,
walking into a 7-11, all hopeful and hungry (and perhaps a little tired) and all I wanted was a can of salmon to have with bread.
And maybe maybe, wash it down with a bottle of Thai barley tea. And perhaps, have a candy bar later in the night while I read more law.
7-11. Did I just get my hopes up too high?
Cans from floor to ceiling - 300 fucking types of tuna, but not even ONE single can of salmon.
No tea.
No candy bar. Of either kind.
And so I lost it.
REWIND.
My day started very innocently, though early. Got up at six to worship, got dressed, then read, then set out on a 15 minute drive to pick up some stuff I had gotten photocopied, got home, read a little more, watched Clue while eating a bowl of noodles, then off to settle some errands (banks know me by now)
And then I spent three hours eating roti bakar and downing four iced chocolates at an Old Town outlet in central market while reading. Yeah, I'm doing this often enough that they who work there know me too. And they know I want less ice in my iced chocolate and more butter on my toast.
Then I went to class.
And sat in class.
And listened.
And wrote.
Took a bathroom break.
Listened to a story about how sorry ass some people can get.
Considered how Mr G (the lecturer) sounded quite like Mr Brilliant. Dismissed the thought with the simple acknowledgment that them two are good good buddies and that was probably why they sound like one another.
Listened and wrote some more.
And then class was dismissed.
So far, nothing to place the day as out of the ordinary.
And then in the car, on the way home, U2's With or Without you played on the radio.
And that was probably what started it all.
U2 unleashed the monster in me.
Question: how long is three weeks?
three weeks...
21 days.
504 hours.
30,240 minutes.
1,814,400 seconds.
3,024,000 heartbeats.
Okay, obviously that last one applies only to me.
100 beats per minute person.
Question: how long then, is a three week relationship?
longer when you were absolutely serious.
a lifetime, when you were actually in love.
Though I have a great way of converting emotions into motivations, in this current situation, I'm having a rather difficult time doing so.
But how in the world does one fall for someone so quickly???
I don't know. I wasn't even waiting for it. Wasn't even looking out for it. Wasn't even counting on it to happen.
But it did. And three weeks felt like one lifetime.
A happy one.
An angry one.
A sad one.
One in which I got hurt.
And I hurt in return.
But was in love.
Now I close my eyes and still feel what I felt then, still smell what I smelt then... still want what I wanted then.
I have never left someone while I still had feelings for them.
And that is the problem.
That is why this is so much harder to deal with.
(but before anyone tells me that now is not the time for me to be thinking of such things and emotional roller coasters are never a good thing - I AM HURT, BUT I AM DEALING WITH IT. ONE ONLY LIVES ONCE. GIVE ME A BREAK)
FAST FORWARD
Car stops in front of 7-11.
I got out, adjusted the French Kiss tee and kilt I had on, walked in through the door, ringing the chime, all the while knowing exactly what I wanted.
What I really wanted was not a can of salmon, not tea, not candy bars.
What I wanted was to see happiness on the shelves, grab some of that happiness, and buy happiness.
But that's just not possible now is it?
I am so frustrated.
Because I'm trying as I might, with ALL my might, but still cannot get anywhere closer to that place I've always, and will always, want to be.
Because in almost all aspects of my life (and being) I am in control, but that control helps me get nowhere.
Because I've never before wanted something so so badly that I dream of it every single night, that I walk around with my heart leading the way, that I shut myself and hear a tune. A song.
I miss him so badly.
So badly that I lashed out at the cashier for not having my four items, that I used cuss words (including those previously banned by my so-called codes of modesty) and that my cheeks turned so red that they looked like they were painted on or covered in blood.
I knew it wasn't her fault that they didn't have what I wanted. Hell, she was just paid by the hour. Probably hadn't even reached the age of majority yet. Probably cried her eyes out because of the bizarrely rude and irate customer.
Wow, and I know I wouldn't have done such a thing, not anywhere in that neighborhood even, if I wasn't so knotted and tangled up inside.
Now I have to say it. I really, really do.
Right now, as it seems, I probably always will,
Salmon, I love you still.
