When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Saturday, November 15, 2003
mood: nostalgic
music: whooshing of ceiling fan
Ja came online and messaged me immediately after her return from Frankston beach. Frankston - 30 ~ km from Melbourne city, or is it Malvern East? Frankston, the place Jim drove me to whenever he sensed that something was troubling me, the place his compact lil' Echo headed whenever he thinks the sound of the waves and the chilly wintry air can help to drown my sorrows. Frankston.
That was before we got together. If there's such a thing as spontaneous combustion then that spark between us caused an explosion. Alright, c-o-r-n-y. I credit that bit of instant clicking to the effects of alcohol on a girl who cannot drink much and a guy who drinks too much for his own good. Anyhow, we finally got to meet each other after a long long while of hearing about a male/female counterpart sharing the same name. Jimmy. Jimmie. A divine coincidence, isn't it?
Karaoke. In Singapore we pronounce it as kah-rah-oh-kay; in Melbourne, care-ree-oh-kee. It was at a karaoke place called CC if I remembered correctly. Down which street in the city? Collins? Beats me now. I might remember it later, but the memory evades me at this point in time. Burke. That's rite. Little Burke St aka Chinatown. It was there that I finally got introduced to that big friendly giant of a guy whom I grew to first appreciate as an acquaintance, to know as a friend, to grow and to love as my other half, only to depart, as friends, all within that one month plus time frame.
I think I was still attached to C when Jim stepped into my life. Even then, I was deliberating whether to leave C for good, to give myself enough time to recover, and to brace myself for the inevitable ending - me leaving Melb. I won't be able to take it if I come back two years later, for vacation or what-not, to see C happily married with two kids. I simply won't. I'll break down. Or rather, the thought of it already brought me to the brink of breaking down. He's nice. He's mature enough. He's financially stable. He's got everything in a guy. He has to be, considering his age. And he likes me. Yet I chose to believe in a poignant Sweet Novemberish ending. I actually relished in those depressing thoughts. Lapping them up like sizzling diet coke with lemon under the hot sun. Yum.
Jim noticed. Despite the hit-by-a-truck-and-I-dare-it-to-hit-me-again gungho tough girl facade that I put up in front of him, he saw through my veneer of self-denial. I was quiet the night everyone went to Crown to watch 2 Fast 2 Furious, he said. Too quiet. So he rang me up to go for coffee some time after. And dared me to go skinny-dipping at Frankston, which we drove to after coffee. That bastard.
Even then I was still the disbeliev(er), untrust(er), not sure of his motives and his smoothness. Why should he try so hard to make me happy? Then I realized his ex-gf was a Singaporean too. Plus, Melb is his home, he doesn't want anyone to leave Melb with a bad impression of it. He wants everyone to leave with happy memories. He wants to give what C doesn't seem to be giving me. Happy memories.
He shared with me what he couldn't share with others. How tough it was to let his ex-gf go. How he tried to fully utilize the last few weeks with her. How much it broke his heart when she actually left. Some really private stuff about how the church got into the way of their relationship, things he couldn't share with anyone else. Memories. The happy and the sad. Silly guy. I felt obliged to tell him something to, which I did, and like magic everything fell into place and made sense to him.
Coffee. Coffee again. Just like now, I was mugging for exams then. C wanted me to concentrate and focus, so he played his golf and refused to see me. Looking back with hindsight he really meant for me to mug hard. But then I just thought he's a sick bastard who cares more about golf than his gf who's about to leave him, and Australia for good. Jim came and rescued me from that dark, foreboding apartment I cooped myself up in, came and whisked me away in his cute lil' Echo.
Drove 60~km down to the coasts of Sorrento. Beautiful place in the daytime, even more hauntingful so at night. I told Jim I wanted to drink. And he came up with this amusing to the point of being corny idea of asking me what's my favourite fruit and like a magician, producing an appled/orange-flavoured alcoholic soda from the backseat of the car. Took a couple and got just that little bit high, and the two of us went to sit by the beach like two idiots out in the cold freezing our asses off. According to him I was still not OK.
"You know what I think? I think you need a big hug."
And I was in his arms. Something possessed me to break down and cry. That flush of emotion just went up my spine and spilled out through the two narrow slits they call my eyes. I sobbed, and I bawled. It doesn't matter that my make-up's ruined, neither do I care my mascara's running like black rivers down my face. I felt used by C. I felt cheated and disappointed and short-changed. I felt that I've made the worse decision in my life.
Jim drove even further up to Arthur's Seat. Dromana. Up the hills. Then I was supposed to close my eyes for a long long while as the car made its ascent up the winding roads. Then he piggy-backed me to the edge of the hills where I could finally open my eyes. The sight was nothing short of heavenly. The total darkness of the surroundings, and the soft glow of streetlights and houses of the city far away. You know it when you see something beautiful, you know it but you can't seem to describe it. That was how I felt. Even now, the lights of the little industrial island on the other side of the sea visible from my kitchen still reminds me of that night.
Sighs.
And so the story goes. We had a long conversation about life, about relationships, about funny stuff, about serious stuff, just about everything in that cute lil' Echo. We play Win, Lose or Draw on the condensation on the window panes, and used the car's head rest as a duster.
I never laughed so hard in my life.
Of course, he knows the one dirty trick to make me laugh. That bastard.
I miss him. I miss Melbourne. I miss my friends in Melbourne. I miss the beaches, the summer sun and the winter cold.
Aikes. Too bad, "Singapore time Singapore place Singapore town".
Frankston. One word is enough to spur on a thousand. Frankston.
