I was in pain, for the first two legs of flight, and decided to get as drunk as possible on the third punishment.
So I wouldn't have to spend the entire 6 hours crouched over my seat, trying to mentally stem the pain radiating from my lower back.
It was a messy trip to the loo, at Narita, but I needed it. And after all, I was alone, as always. Nobody could help me except myself.
//
Serendipity came, in the form of a cap, concerned eyes that I still can't name the colour to. A hasty "Sorry!" to my "Hi, I'm seated at the window", you stood to the side and watched me nervously haul my backpack up onto the overhead compartment. Inwardly cursing at the bricks that filled my bag and the lack of arm strength that saw me struggle with the weight in public. If you could call the enclosed capsule of human bodies, public.
I scooted in with less embarrassment and more suave (thank goodness), and made myself comfortable to continue reading some fanfiction that has become irrelevant in hindsight.
Stealing glances through the reflection of the window, I wondered who was the person I was seated with this time, and if I could extend my space to the empty seat between us.
Realising that I was behaving like a creep, and that he was drifting off into sleep, I resolved to finish my ficlet on my phone.
The stewardesses started to move about; giving sustenance to us, passengers at their mercy. It was waiting for the bottles of water, that I had an excuse to watch him. With a frown between your eyebrows and a relaxed, gaping jaw, you were sleeping pretty soundly. I gestured to the stewardess to leave your drink with me, and placed it in the buffer space between us, as though we were caring acquaintances.
When the next round of liquids were due, you came out of your slumber, whilst I was stretched over, asking the attendant for sake that was advertised on the food pamphlet. I realised that it was now or never, that I could secure my first human conversation in 30 hours, and so I smiled at you with all I had.
Thankfully, you took the cue, "Is it any good? I'll have the same thing too." and gave us an opening.
The rest passed in a blur, with harmless banter, transforming into light-hearted flirting. You and your Canadian apologetic persona; me and my fuck-it-all demands for more drinks. I remember gushing about meeting my first arborist, and you teaching me how to swear in French. I remember finishing the sake, and asking for whisky instead. I remember demanding that the attendants give us all types of japanese beer because you haven't had any before. I remember asking about your age, you told me you were old.
I remember looking at your hands.
I remember having you get up to let me through to the toilet.
I remember the second time I returned from it, they dimmed the lights.
I remember looking at you, and thinking that I'd like to kiss you.
And apparently we did.
Apparently I also cried after that.
Apparently I fell asleep against you.
Apparently you tried to give me a massage.
Apparently.
Apparently,
Apparently;
--
I remember getting out of the plane.
I remember calling the stupid hotel you booked because wtf were they doing being on Agoda yet needing you to get an early entry into the transit area before you could access it.
I remember getting angry and yelling at them that this is not how they do services; assuming that tourists know the ins and out of an airport they've never been to.
I remember going through immigration.
I remember waiting for you after collecting my luggage.
I remember watching you walk from the customs, to me. And you kissed me.
I remember being surprised, not really sure if it was happening for the first time.
My father called.
He was waiting for me outside.
I told you goodbye and stay safe.
My dad said I reeked of alcohol.
It was 2am.
--
So we added each other on Instagram.
We were amazed that this happened to us.
You were having your holiday, I was dealing with work.
I wondered if it was where it ended, at the end of your long vacation.
I wondered if I would just be a nice memory; your holiday airplane girl.
I wondered if you would meet others where you were.
I wondered if I could trust your words.
I wondered if you felt the same.
--
Fast forward time //
You were due for your transit in Singapore.
We were talking more often.
You were always the one making me smile into my phone.
I had emotional roller coasters, thoughts changing by the minute.
"Does he like me as much?"
"Do I dare hope?"
"He's not replying my questions; I don't think he cares"
"Oh wait that was cute"
"All these doesn't mean nothing right?"
//
And so you arrived.
I was rushing to finish work so I could meet you; without much of a plan in mind.
Walked over, saw you, and the nerves set in so quickly.
Bumbled up my hello, and just started yammering and walking.
Brought you to my lame-ass haunt of CBD people wanting to get drunk quick. Immediately regretted this stupid decision, but okay we got a table. I will trudge through this.
Conversation also wasn't me at my 100% because it was my first bloody day and I was tired from work and mental stress. I felt strange at times, wondering if I was imagining the lull in chemistry and conversation. Was it real? Or was it because we were both tired? I'll never know.
You asked me if I had a "dream wedding" and it made me wonder so hard. Why were you asking this? Do you see a future? Are you just trying to make small-talk? What if you want to get married and I don't? Do you make up your mind that we're not suited? What is the right answer to this question? Why don't I have a Dream Wedding like normal girls?
You told me about your grandmother, and I asserted so hard, too aggressively in hindsight, that you should ask her things about her history because you love her. And that love is the reason. Excuses that you don't want to destroy the "image" of your grandfather or any feeling of societal "appropriateness" is a pitiful excuse in light of her love for you. I got scared that this aggressiveness might offend you, or turn you away.
I just wanted you to know that when I love someone, I would stop at nothing to know how they really feel, what they went through, and try to make their days better after that, with this understanding. I would stop at nothing to get to the Truth. Because truth matters more than what I feel or my emotional impact. Love is my reason, and I was hoping that you would show me that you could love as hard too.
When you let slip that you were getting over your relationship of 6 years, that ended 8 months ago, I wanted to backtrack. I wanted to run so far away that I couldn't see you any more. I wanted to eject myself from your life because of all the emotions and hope I let myself feel about you; was for naught. You were getting over someone, and it wouldn't be easy. I would never want to be your rebound for it, consciously or not. It hurt because it made me doubt all that you said to me, and whether it was coming from a place that you wanted to heal, a soothing balm, a distraction.
It's okay if I was your distraction; that one time in the plane. But know that I have to guard my heart too. I won't be the ship that you hop on, to forget another. Because that is not how healing and loving another works. Been there done that, and I was the bitch. Now I know better. I will be whole and love myself, as I approach another, to respect their emotions and investment they have in another human being. I want to be the best version of myself when I love another.
It's a painful thing, when hope dies. But I am not unfamiliar with this feeling. It was just sad for me that our meeting and feelings for each other may be tainted by our inevitable past. It might not be pure light. It was only bright because of the darkness you were in, and I was afraid that you made it into something amazing just because it took away the hurt temporarily.
We left, and I wanted to bring you to Skinnys and have a nice walk along the way. Got a beer and sat down to watch the river. Talked more, but I couldn't get a clear picture of who you actually are, and looking back, there were so many questions I could have and wanted to ask, but because the hope died a little earlier, I didn't.
I kissed you because I didn't know how to say what I was feeling for you any more. And if I couldn't understand you through words, maybe it wasn't words that I needed.
I wanted to cry again because it felt so good but I would never know if it was because it made you feel good too, feel distracted from the loss that you were about to return to, at home. The loss of a previous companion.
//
So I did what I do best; I pushed all thoughts away and lived in that moment.
Lived like you could be my present, future and more.
Like all you could be.
Like this wasn't going to end in a matter of hours.
I will never forget us sitting down on the steps, and you singing loudly to the band we were gatecrashing on without paying for. Singing to songs I never knew. Singing like you said you never could.
I remember that moment, and feeling like I could live like this forever. For this intense and temporary affection. This feeling of walking through the night and doing anything possible. This feeling of craziness that I would have loved to repeat with you.
Lived like we were in love and nothing else mattered.
Was it infatuation? Was it lust? Did any of those even matter?
What mattered was that there could be two beings who met on the plane, and yet feel things so intensely about each other in such a short period.
It was pure magic.
It was beautiful.
It has a permanent place in my heart.
And it will be what breaks my heart once again.
--
I don't regret it.
Things that happened the day after might have tainted it somewhat and more hope that I didn't know still existed, died again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
--
I can't really / won't change who I am, even though it has to hurt this many times.
Being emotional, feeling too much, makes me who I am and defines how I love.
Don't know where things will go from here, and I don't have much hope either, but I hope you will be happy.
And that you remember me as your holiday girl.
Somewhere in Singapore, you'll always have a place in my heart.
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