I always thought that women who flirted with part-time message handlers were fugly. Well, this one wasn’t. There she was clad in her white uniform and standing between two ladies – a rose among thorns. Too good to be true.
It was an ordinary day when I set the date. The campus was a romantic place with all the Romanesque architecture and its gardens. One attraction was the statue of the querubin which was said to be the patron saint of the homosexuals. The thought was disturbing but there was just the two of us surrounded by fallen leaves, a scintillating silence and the mystique of that lone statue. I could still remember the feeling.
Act 1:
Oh, did I mention that she had a boyfriend? Yes, she had. She said that she misses him. I could still remember the cheerless expression on her face. The thought of it was sad but not tragic. It was too early to fall head over heels. At this point, the excitement of courtship was all that mattered. One time, I forgot that the car I was driving with her was color coded. Far ahead were the figures of four sloppy looking clowns (a.k.a. MMDA). They haven’t seen us so I had time to turn right and pretend to be parked in some corner of Kalayaan Street. A flyover made the area poorly lit. There was hardly anyone. She bit my right arm in a flirtatious way. I didn’t do anything. Wierd. We just talked. One night, in the middle of one of our nightly phone marathons, she said it was over between her and the boyfriend. I didn’t take that as a sign either.
Act 2:
My memory is fuzzy but I think it was a break from the career dumps that ended our story. The new direction introduced me to new friends and routines. I spent less on phone conversations and ice cream dates and more on clubbing and staying out late. We simply lost the connection, just like that. Poof! Some months later, I remembered to call her up and say hello. Actually, I kind of missed her. Her answer was an evil laugh and said she had gotten back together with the boyfriend. For some reason, that laugh failed to inspire me to rekindle an old friendship.
Act 3:
Some years passed and unnoticedly reached my late 20s. I was emotionally more mature, email had become available to everyone and Friendster had just been born. Consequently, she was among old friends I wanted to dig up. I could still remember that first email conversation.
Josh: Well, well, well! Look who we have here. =) You don’t seem to have changed, still charming as usual. How are you?
Cons: well, some things change. I am getting married in a week …
The Melbourne Art Scene 