Flim Flam Flom
i took a dump this morning and weighed myself. i have a friend, Dave, who told me that you lose a couple of kgs after shitting.
i shyly looked down at the scale; as if that’s gonna make me a few grams lighter. 48. Oh my god. Looks like good ol’ Dave’s theory didn’t work.
i glanced at the clock. 11 a.m. i promised Romeo i’d reach around 11.30 but obviously i was not gonna make it in time. You know, i got the Most Fashionably Late award during graduation party. Trust me, it’s nothing to be proud of.
“Why don’t you bring your laptop? i’ll give you kisses all over.”
There’s something strangely domestically romantic about that sentence. i liked it. Then i had a flashback of this one evening at his living room where he told me how much he likes watching me work, even when he’s doing nothing. Like playing Modern Warfare 2 on PS3 for example.
Better late than never, i told myself, and packed my stuff into the car. i got stuck in a terrible 12 noon jam. Such obstacle made me questioned why i’m doing what i’m doing for who? i’m romantic, but realistic. Can’t help measuring what’s worth, or not worth, giving into a relationship that has an expiry date.
i rang the door bell. As i did that i felt a thin layer of self-defense membrane crawled onto my skin. i had no idea where that came from.
“Where is my kiss? That’s the first thing you have to do when you see me.” He sounded so cute saying that. i could feel my bones melting.
We did some work on our laptops and had a conversation about food.
i’m hungry, i said. i’m gonna buy lunch from the economy rice place.
“Do they have shyubogya?”
“You know, that mix chicken, fish, and some vegetables thing?”
“Ahh, they should have that.” i said and continued acting busy when i had my heart, at his.
Well that’s funny if they have it, he said, because i just invented it.
i called him The Living Dictionary and bought us some ice-cream.
i looked at the clock. 4.11 p.m. Time runs like water when i’m with this man. It’s not like we’re doing anything. He was taking a siesta in his room, as i typed this on the sofa listening to Este Seu Olhar by Diana Krall.
“On the scale of 1 to 10, how stressed are you?”
“9” was his answer. i thought that’s pretty fucked up, but i’m a 9.5 really.
Behind my back was the KL tower. i recalled how i cried one gloomy day staring at it. It was as if i stood on this big grey sky and heavy black clouds with hopes as high as this tower, that the rain won’t fall.
My best friend Ruby once RT-ed me on Twitter with an #ihatequote which goes: “Fate determines who comes into your life, your heart determines who stays.”
i let that thought ran through my head a few times. i can’t do everything, but i’d do anything for this man as long as he could stay. But so what if i rent a room for him in my heart, when fate also determines who can’t stay?
* * *
He told me not to remind him about it, so i saved myself such sappiness to avoid looking like a lousy bitch.
And he took a nap at the other side of the wall.
The other side of the wall…
p/s: Flim Flam Flom means “you want to have sex on top of the mountain with a red hat”.