the missus.

i miss… old times. i hate change. call me autistic, OCPD, whatever. i cling on to memories, and wish they’d always remain. alas, they don’t.

i miss amma’s house. i miss the beautiful garden and the slippery porch floor. many a day were spent sweeping leaves off that floor and washing and scrubbing it often ended in a splash party/bath outside. we were young and shame was never a problem.

i miss her room, with the Yardley talc smell, and the ever burning wick at the altar. i used to blow it out because it reminded me of birthday candles. my pyromania, i suspect, evolved from that fire.

i miss lying down on the bed with her,with an extra kain sarung as my blanket, and how she always got annoyed when i was busy rolling around instead of sleeping. i miss her.

i miss being the strong one. getting up early because i was responsible, not because i couldn’t sleep anymore. making coffee and waking my housemate up, and riding to school together.

i miss giving directions using hand signals because Left and Right got confusing. i miss completing stories i have heard before because he couldn’t find the right words in English.

i miss backrubs and head massages, giving them as much as getting them. being worn out together in this long, long course. late night mamaks just because we didnt have dinner together, or for the sake of leaving that old yellow house.

i miss nagging about DOTA or reading comics. i miss cleaning up the studio apartment-of-a-room because of my OCD-ness. i miss studying together, fighting because of the answers we disagreed on, and laughing at all the full moon jokes.

i miss being ourselves back in those days. in as much as i resist change, things can and will never be the same."everything changes, even change itself." Sam was right of course. and some changes i readily accept. but such strong, fond memories always drift me back to a time that stood still, where experiences were golden, no matter what they were.

like my beloved sisters, who mean so much to me. childhood friends who then grew to awkward teenagers, who then gracefully entered aduthood with all the life-changing events that follow these eras.

knowing them changed my life a little. growing with them changed me completely. now, we are leading completely different lives, thrusted with a whole array of different sensations and experiences. though we still maintain our friendship, it just isn’t the same. and although i guess this is a good thing (as we are changing everyday), a part of me still wants the old back.

i know i should embrace the new. i know that holding on makes me irrational and sometimes condemning. i know that if i insist on such things, all those strongly bound friendships would start to fray. because, what i am hoping for is something in a time capsule. the whole world has moved on. although i seem to have moved on, a part of me just isn’t ready to change.

things i have left behind, like closed chapters in a book, are past relationships and bad dressing sense. but, friendships, well more than anything, i thought they would follow me into my old age. and no doubt they would, however not in the same way i guess.

MEMORIES… they start with ME.

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