Monday, February 17, 2014

love is for children

The very first time I fell in love was in 2008. His name was Vince and I met him on a CIP trip to the zoo. My 2 friends and I were sitting behind him and anxiously looking for the time to record the hours we spent volunteering when this tall lanky guy with a crew cut turned around, glanced at his watch (left wrist, I remembered), and cooly said, "10.40am". During the CIP session our booths were next to each other. He was tall, smart, charismatic and an excellent conversationalist. We clicked instantly, and the attraction was strong. We talked for a long time about our interests, schools and hobbies. MSN was all the rage at that time and so we exchanged emails. I remember being so shy at age 14, gushing over an intelligent and fascinating 16 year old at that time. I was so self conscious that for weeks I would hang out at my friend's house and use her email to chat with him instead. As conversations deepened our feelings did too. His birthday was approaching and he coyly gave me his number to text him instead, which was a huge step in advancing towards a potential relationship since most people communicated through instant messaging at that point in time. A phone number was almost tantamount to giving the other party the key to your apartment, so you could imagine my excitement. Alas, any possibility of a flourishing relationship was cut before any opportunity to do so could arise, for my idiot of a friend blew things for us. Looking back, I was seething with rage. He was my first love, someone who I felt no matter how ambiguous the definition of love was, I felt strong enough to constitute my feelings for him as that, love. But anyway, after a few weeks of feeling remorseful about my forgone chance, I moved on.

Then came 1 August 2009. 

I was running towards Victoria School with a big black camp bag slung over my shoulder. I pressed my pink mobile phone next to my ear, asking my friend where the reporting location was. I was late for the Youth Delegate Leader Camp. The youngest of 7 YDLs representing Singapore and there I was, tardy. As I burst through the door of the classroom yelling "I'm here?", all eyes fixated on me. Flushed with embarrassment, I proceeded to dump my bag in a corner and took my place amongst the people I recognised. Introduction was followed by a game of double whacko. I remember 2 other countries' YDLs being present, specially flown in from Indonesia and Vietnam to join us in the pioneer ASEAN Youth Convention. We had to pair up with someone preferably from the other country. I scanned through the room, hoping to find an amiable looking partner and my gaze fixed on someone. 

"Would you like to be a partner?" I timidly asked
"Sure" He mused.

He was tall and reasonably buff enough for me to catch a glimpse of the outline of his biceps as he pulled up his sleeved. He wore a white shirt that was a bit too baggy for his frame, black hip hop pants and shiny black dunks. On his face laid a matte black framed pair of spectacles, balanced delicately on his high nose bridge. His skin was bronzed tan, his chiseled jaw outlined his face and beneath those spectacles laid a pair of gleaming, sincere coal-coloured eyes. His hair was slightly unkempt, like he just woke out of bed but upon closer look I spotted the shine of hair gel as the light bounced off it. His smile was crooked towards the right, and he stood with his hands in his pocket, a relaxed stance. There was something about him that made me feel comfortable.

He sat down on the slightly dirty floor while I took my place behind him. I was scrutinising every individual sitting on the floor, for it was my job to yell one of their names should my partner's name be called. 

"Sorry, what's your again?" I bent forward and inquired. I had a problem with remembering names, it's like people tell me their names and it just flows out of my ear. 

He gazed up at me, his eyes sparkling and smiled, "You can call me T"

T was unlike any other guy I've ever met. He was a basketballer, a dancer, a confidante, and comedian all rolled into one person. He was so charming cobras would be lining up to be seduced by him. Despite English being his second language, he could communicate well enough to crack jokes. He loved life, he embraced every opportunity presented and was the most sporting individual I've seen. During a fashion parade he volunteered to don a bra and skirt made out of toilet paper and cardboard, and worked it. He makes people laugh, he makes people look at him and want to be as happy as him, he makes people forget about any insecurities or problems they have temporarily, to just embrace the moment and live in it. He was extremely popular amongst both the Vietnamese and other Asian delegates, even amongst the organising committee. Who could blame them, with his zest and infectious smile.

He loves sports. Whenever a break was present he would be seen chasing a soccer ball or dunking a basketball into the hoop. When music played he would start dancing, and not the intimidating dancing type, he would dance enough for people to want to dance with him too. But during performances his stage presence was unbeatable. I remember sitting in the crowd gazing in admiration at him as he danced to Lady Gaga's Poker Face. Amongst a dance group he would be the one standing out, the only one that I fixed all my attention on. I looked at him in glee and thought to myself "one day I want to be able to dance like that"

During the AYC Fair at Bishan, his Vietnamese teacher dragged him into the corner of the parade square and put a "free hugs" sign on him. Everyone was taking pictures and all the guys immediately rushed to embrace him. My friends who knew of my crush on him aggressively pushed me in the middle of the parade square next to him, and I was blushing crazily because all eyes were on us. I remember my heart pounding omg I can't have people staring at me like this I'm the only girl here isn't it obvious I like him I'm gonna kill Emmerlyn, Jialun and the rest ok maybe I should poison their water later on no it might be traceable ok don't digress what am I going to do everyone is staring and he's looking at me oh god ok he's looking at me what must he be thinking am I some freak look T I really didn't come here on purpose they pushed me........before I knew it I felt his arms around me, and that's when my heart went all ape-shit on me.

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG T HUGGED ME. ME. IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY. OK SURE HE HAD TO IT SEEMED LIKE THE ONLY REASONABLE THING TO DO. I MEAN HE HAD THE "FREE HUGS" SIGN ON HIM RIGHT HE CAN'T ASK ME TO PAY UP AFTER. I HATE MY FRIENDS SO MUCH BUT I LOVE THEM EVEN MORE. I CAN'T BELIEVED T HUGGED ME OH GOD IF THIS IS A DREAM NOBODY PINCH ME I CAN'T WAKE UP NOW.

I spent every minute in AYC trying to get closer to him. Casually walking past his group and shyly saying hi to him, waiting by the doorside for him to enter the lecture theatre first, then rushing in like a ninja to 'coincidentally' sit next to him, and smiling like an idiot whenever I spot him from afar. Girl friends do better tracking than the FBI, I'm so certain of that fact. How else could anyone know where he was exactly at a precise moment, who he talked to and when he drank water. Omg seriously girls are scary people ok you do not want to mess with them. I got a bit freaked out but who cares, I wanted to know everything about him.

T and I got along really well. We talked and texted a lot. I remember speaking to him as much as I could during the day programme, going home jabbing keys on my phone texting him while stupidly smiling to myself, and immediately running to my computer to log into MSN and chat with him more. I was happy spending my days like that, ignoring all social interactions just to dedicate all my time speaking to him. We would talk about everything, he would tell me about his family and house and I would tell him about my interests and favourite TV shows. We discussed music, movies, books, animals, basically anything you could name. There was never a dull moment, never a quiet moment when we had nothing to talk about. T could make a boring topic like stale bread seemed like a red carpet tabloid article. I eagerly clung onto every single word and conversation we had. I saved every single of his SMS in a special folder entitled 'Light'.

His real name is Quang, which means Light in Vietnamese. We wrote letters to each other, commented on each other's facebook walls/blog posts and through every available social media outlet present then. When the end of the convention approached, I felt dismayed. T would be going back to Vietnam, and I would most probably never see him again. His friends were so supportive of us, it was upsetting that we couldn't be together because of geographical boundaries. I moped about for a bit, before deciding that I wanted him to have something that he could bring back to Vietnam, something that reminded him of me. So I took out all my art materials and I made a card to every Vietnamese YDL, with one in particular I poured more emotions and feelings into. 

During the last day of the convention in VS' hall, I went up to everyone and passed them their letter. I hugged them and exchanged our last goodbyes. When I spotted T in a section of the hall talking to other people, I approached him and extended my hand with the letter clutched tightly.

"Here, T, this is for you. I hope you like it" I beamed.

He took it with a crooked smile, and read it. He looked on nervously, wondering if I misspelt any Vietnamese words or if he could understand my English. Then he looked up and gazed straight into my eyes, gave me a big smile, leaned forward and kissed me.

And I swear at that moment, time froze.

The chattering chorus of people speaking to each other grew instantly silent. The sound of the clattering fans screeched to a halt. People's footsteps running across the hall to greet and thank other people stopped. It was my first kiss, and it was from T. Oh god, I must be dreaming.

I could feel all the blood rush right to my cheeks, filling them with a scarlet red. He hugged me and I hugged him back real tightly, like I was afraid that if I just let go of him he would disappear into existence. And just when I thought things couldn't be more perfectly, I felt his breath next to my ear and he whispered, "I love you, Heather".

Ok I better not be dreaming now. If I am this is the best dream in the world and please just let this be a coma. In that fleeting moment I seriously considered if parallel worlds were in existence and if I just transported myself into another realm. If he hadn't noticed my cheeks on fire previously he definitely would have then. My heart was pounding faster than a hummingbird's wings, and I could feel my palms getting clamy. No they can't he's holding them sweat glances come on work with me this is too unattractive maybe I can blame it on him instead. He timidly looked at him and saw that he was looking straight at me. I felt my heartrate accelerate to the rate of a hummingbird's wings with a double shot of expresso. Shyly I uttered, "I love you too"

I was smiling ear to ear the entire day. I couldn't get over what just happened. I replayed the moment in my head over and over again. Omg I couldn't grasp the magnitude of the situation. All that magnificence within a span of 2 minutes. I don't deserve that, maybe I was Gandhi in my previous life. But on the bus home all I could think of was how I met the love of my life and he was about to get onto a plane for Hanoi in 7 hours and that was the end of it. The end of us.

I constantly texted T the entire time, hoping to make the most of speaking to him before he got back to Vietnam and both our phone bills exploded. He told me that he noticed my purple carebear keychain on my bagpack the entire time and he thought it was cute. He said he went to Mustafa and got the exact same one as mine. He would name his Heather, take it back to Vietnam and carry it around with him wherever he went. One of his Vietnamese friend gave me a love pendant, hoping that it might someday bring us together again, which I hung on my bagpack, along with my carebear, now named T. 

On their last night in Singapore they were going to Bugis Street. I remember being in my cedar house tee and FBTs (my house bum look), chilling on my laptop when I received a text from T asking whether I wanted to tag along. I dropped everything and got changed and dashed out of the house immediately. We had dinner at Burger King and spoke to everyone at the table. I got along really well with his friends, everyone had a nice time and then it was free and easy for shopping.

T and I went along with another Vietnamese girl, who was looking for shoes. I asked him if he wanted to buy anything specific and he shook his head. He said he wanted to just walk around with me and spend some time together. He spent the night talking, giving the girl advise on which shoes to buy, snatching food and bags from one another and just laughing and soaking in the comfort of being in each other's company. For the last time. When I was about to leave he kissed me on the cheek and said we would chat tonight. I remember eagerly waiting by my laptop to hear the beeping notification that indicated that he came online.

And then he was gone. Just like that. Separated by countries and the sea. We texted for a few weeks and then stopped. I was devastated to have lost him, but somehow moved on.

Love is defined as a strong feeling of affection. Despite the vagueness of the individual terms that make up its definition, I am so absolutely certain that I loved T with a rigour that I've never experienced before. He was special, what we had was special. Probably I might feel more strongly for other people than I did for T, but in the case of love, he might be undefeated. It is because of the experience of love that children feel, as a teenager (or child), the purity of your interest in the person, the innocence of the relationship and the joy of having your love reciprocated, even in something as simple as a hug or a letter. That experience is something that unfortunately, only comes with the demureness and innocence of childhood, something that can't be replicated when one ages. It will still be love when you're older, and arguably it might be more matured and stronger, but it can never compete with the vulnerable and precious love experienced in your childlike mentality. The happiness it came with is something that I will cherish my entire life. Maybe then, it is true that love is indeed, for children.

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