Monsieur is turning 67 this year! It seems that math was never my strong side. I was 28 when monsiuer was double my age. What could go wrong when everything felt so fucking awesome. I couldnt help myself but to tell him that I dreamt of him. His answer: I also dream about myself at times. You tell him you miss him, he asks why he did not recieve an invite to the wedding. You comfort him by stating the obvious, that he didn't want to marry you so you had to marry someone.
Alas, my childhood. I was a happy child, until I wasnt anymore. When I was 5 yrs old "they" put me in a so called boarding school for musical trained kids, my parents always like to emphasis "musical" whenever they talk about it. They also make it sound like it was some kind of a gift one couldn't turn down. Mostly my dad likes to joke about it, mum never mentions it anymore. Memories of sorrow sounds too pretentious for a 5 year old but that was the bigger part of my childhood. Sorrow and longing.
I moved to Singapore straight after college in HK, with a man I can only recall that I adored at times. Somehow I always end up loathing them. The men. I cut myself with a dinning knife after a couple of months living there, just to feel something else. I remember when D. asked me about what those scars were, I told him I fell through a fence while playing tennis. Only half of a lie.
Nothing really matters when everything is happening at once. No time to stop to reflect to reliase. If I only could go back to that summer in Shanghai and ride on his whimpy scooter again. So that I can feel our body getting closer everytime it breaks.
