That's me - at age 4, back in '95. I was a little girl whose world revolved around her big, strong father, the purple tricycle, the swings at the playground and strawberry-flavoured milk. And also maybe a little fetish for $2 paper fans and Japanese crackers.
I barely had an impression of having this photo taken but that smile... was magical. Maybe my dad pulled a funny face before pressing the shutter. Maybe I just liked smiling a lot before my life fell apart. Maybe my underwear wasn't giving me a wedgie. Maybe it was. I don't know. However, at age 20, I've been finding that kind of magical smile on my face - just thinking about my other favourite boy.
Lately I have been swamped with work at this dessert lounge/bar, Dolce, (come visit if you're ever in Taipei! I'll buy you a shot) and my working hours often begin in the evening and sometimes ends with a sunrise. Naturally, being kept on my toes all day kept the endorphins coming and the idle mind was a rare occurrence. I begin to be happy. (which unfortunately gave me a writer's block as well)
I would admit that I'm drowning in a cocktail of post-coital hormones produced biologically to keep us copulating for reproduction, but I wasn't quite convinced it was entirely chemical and my feelings were more temporary than I thought they would be.
The weather has been painfully erratic, transiting from summer to autumn meant major temperature differences during day and night. My weeks were peppered with drizzles, downpours, cloudy days and bam, suddenly it's all sunshine and shit then the clouds piss themselves silly. It was just like my working hours; sometimes I'm ushered off into a taxi before 2am and other times I drunkenly stumble out of a club at 5am with equally hammered colleagues and customers. And this amazing boy would offer to pick me up with his scooter, even if it was raining and he could barely drag his ass out of bed or tear his eyes away from PPS. (something like Funshion)
He would take me to supper if I said I was hungry and played Tetris on my iPhone whilst I gobbled away. (sorry sweetheart you'd never beat my high score of 96k, you will be stuck at 43k forever) if not he'd take me home and sometimes it was so cold that I hug him tighter and shiver. He'd put his hand over mine and tell me to be patient because I'd be home soon. He will kiss me good bye even if my breath smells like I brushed my teeth with whisky, and remind me to sleep early, because he knows I'll be on Facebook the moment I get home and he'll ask why wouldn't I sleep. Because it was too bright and my curtains does jack shit and blocking out the sunlight.
He is that one person that's in my mind at night, and as I finally manage to drift off to sleep he would be the last night that fades from the fraying edges of my consciousness as I melt into the bleeding darkness behind my eyelids. When I awake, thoughts of him rises to the surface of my sleepy thoughts, like the way a sunrise bleeds into the city, filtering through my blinds and nudging me out of slumber. Little thoughts, memories, texts, phone calls and any reminders of him pulls up the corners of my mouth in content smiles and sometimes chuckles over a private joke we both share.
To the moments we've had spent having a whole Sunday watching B-grade Asian horror flicks (resulting in the both of us laughing throughout most of those films) and more funny Asian films - which certainly reminds me that I scored a miserable B for my Chinese during O's - and he would patiently define the words for me. He would let me lie on his chest and wear his t-shirts, we would take smoke breaks in the toilet and talk about spicy pork buns. He would put a defrosted banana (who the fuck freezes bananas?) and some milk into a blender and try to make me drink it because he says it makes monkeys happy. I'll tell him I'm not a monkey and I don't like the taste of bananas so I sipped it while he gulps down the rest. We would take a 5 minute walk to dinner and talk about the crap of a job the architecture of his building was over century egg porridges. We would fall asleep in each others arms and wake each other up accidentally when either one of us gets up to pee.
I think... I'm in love. Even if he walks in on me peeing and then proceeds to pee in front of me while I'm washing my hands. I'm happy. Really, really happy.
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