Date: Fri, 23 Feb 2001 14:43:23 -0800 (PST)
From: Samuel Y
Subject: Quintessence

WARNING! WARNING!
First of all, if you're under the age of consent in your area, what the
heck are you doing here in the first place? Don't you know little boys (and
girls) like you shouldn't be doing such naughty, naughty things? There's a
time and place for everything, and it's called college. Either that, or why
don't all you lil' ones band together and send a nice petition to your
political leader demanding for a change in the law.

Anyways, I've being going through a rather rough and epochal time in my
life and I decided I would write something to help me with deal with my
pain. So I did. And a good friend of mine (also an author here) suggested I
publish it. At first I was reluctant to submit it, but two months after I
wrote it and re-read it, I decided to post it. Hope you guys like it. But
it has served it purpose already; it has allowed me to confront the reality
I've been running away from and helped me let go. And I am very proud of
it.

Copyright Samuel Y.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Quintessence
By
Samuel Y.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Christ, it's cold.

Freezing.

Mind-numbingly bitter.

It's probably only three, maybe two degrees. It should be anyway; it is
autumn. The perennial doorstop between the warmth of summer's tender
embrace and the chill of winter's icy breath. It is a fitting season, I
should say, for me. Almost as if it was written in the stars.

I sit here on this oak bench that has weathered the elements bravely year
in, year out. Alone. By myself. In this park. Hell, I don't know where I
am, I don't know how I got here; all I know is I'm here. A lonely figure
cutting a forlorn picture under the pale glow of the full moon. It is cold,
but it is colder inside me.

Leaves in myriads of colours fall all over me. Falling to the earth below,
to provide life for a new generation of leaves to fall as their
predecessors and their predecessors' predecessors have fallen. Over and
over, it's an unbreakable habit, this cycle. Just like everything else in
life. The wheels of Fate turn and churn endlessly; turning what was once
new old, and what was once old new.

A leaf falls onto my hand. I look at it. At it's delicate veins and rich
bronze colour.

'Shit, this is exactly where I am now, isn't it? I've grown from a fragile
green bud to a fully-grown leaf, and I've stood proud among the rest of my
kind in those majestic branches.  And now? Now I am only a dying leaf ready
to be swept away from my home by the winds of Destiny. And the same very
sun that once gave me life, happiness and joy is now setting down in the
horizon on me.'

I talk to myself. It is an annoying habit, I know.

It's midnight, or at least that's what my wristwatch tells me. Don't really
care. It could be 4 in the morning for all I know. Doesn't change the
immense misery weighing down my brain and my shoulders.

Why am I here, then you ask? The answer is simple. I'm pining. In the same
way Echo, the wood nymph pined for Narcissus; and the same way one misses a
dear pet that's passed away.

I guess I do have a story to tell. It is not a particularly exciting story,
not the sort of stuff that Tinseltown turns into over-hyped, overindulgent,
melodramatic cinema-fillers, but it still is my story. A simple story of a
young man, who fell in love.

The beginning.

It is possibly the hardest way to start. My mind is a mess, as if I've
taken one too many pints. So many images and pictures swirling in the
vortex of my mind; so many fragments, bits and pieces floating around that
I have not valour enough to make a picture out of the kaleidoscope.

The sky. My, it's perfectly clear. I can see the stars and the heavenly
bodies I loved when I was a child, framed by the tops of tall, guarding
trees. I can see brave Orion, hunting for the Great Bear, which was once
Callisto. I can see the Greek hero Hercules fighting the venomous Hydra in
the swamps. And the seven sisters of the Pleiades burning bright. It is
brilliant. It stretches on forever and ever, only to be seen, never to be
fully understood.

I laugh. Aloud.

How poetic. But then, I've only been a romantic at heart. And, should my
memory serve me right, the sky was as brilliant as this on the day I met
him.

When was it? I really cannot recall exactly. But it is coming back to me
now. The many bits of the puzzle are arranging themselves now to form a
tapestry of rich detail.

I remember now. I was jogging round the track at my local recreation
park. It was early evening, when the sun began to glow a rich gold, and
people were at their most languid, basking in the death of another sun,
while I was at my most active.

I usually just do three laps on the track, which translates into about five
miles. And, as usual, I was observing my fellow joggers. The many people;
some jogging, some walking. Some beside me, some towards me. Each one
different in shape, size and feature; yet somehow, all the same.

Some look as though they were having the time of their lives. Yet others
were poker-faced and stolid. I've always been intrigued by faces. Some are
so explicit; inner thoughts manifesting themselves into facial features;
while others incredibly deceiving, a still, calm surface hiding a river of
molten lava underneath. You see so many people everyday, yet few of us stop
to think what is it like to live another person's life. To share in their
experiences, joys and pains. But I do, and it's a reality check for me. For
only then, can I truly begin to understand my own life and be fully
grateful for what I have and what I don't.

Yeah, I think it was then that I saw him. I was in a pensive mood, the
theme from the David Lynch's surrealistic magnum opus Twin Peaks playing
its delicate chords in my head, thinking of the implications of existence
when into my view came an incredibly graceful and handsome young man.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw his lithe body coming within reach.

I think I was entranced by him. I must have been, for I remember slowing
down my pace so I could get a good look at him. He was a marvel, a
skilfully created sculpture I could examine indefinitely. But it was too
short, too unsatisfactory. For he was jogging in the opposite direction and
soon he was out of sight.

God, how naive I was at that time. I actually thought I was falling in
love at first sight. But then again, as I've said before, I am an incurable
romantic, and in some ways, I did fall at first glimpse. With him in my
mind (you know how crushes are), I continued to jog, never being able to
get him off my mind. The figure of him jogging towards me a movie played
out on my glass lenses.

And then I fell.

Slipped rather.

On a particularly wet patch of dried leaves. It had been raining most of
last week, but then strong sun had dried most of the moisture up. But under
the shade of oak trees where I was, the water had not completely
evaporated.

Shit.

What was I thinking? Wait, I know what I was thinking about.

The damage was done, though. I had twisted my ankle. I could almost hear my
mother say 'See? That's what happens when you don't concentrate on what
you're doing.'

Yes mom, if only you knew the circumstances.

So that was the end of my jog. Damn, only did 3 miles. I'll make up for it
next week. Gingerly picking myself up, I tested my foot. Not bad, could
still walk back to the car, albeit at the pace of a lame tortoise.

'Whoa, man. Slow down. Let me give you a hand'.

Now who could that be? I guess you guessed it. It was moi Romeo himself.
Smiling vividly at me, and at the same time supporting my back with his
hands. The moment his slipped his arm under mine it was like I had been
branded by hot iron.

I think I managed a feeble thanks. Not that he noticed. All he asked was
what happen. And I told him. In as many words as I possibly could.

He looked sympathetic and then grimaced.

'Ouch! That's gotta hurt. Tell you what, I'll help you back to your car?'

A veritable Don Corleone with an offer I couldn't refuse.

Arm around my shoulder, we hobbled back to my car, which took us the
greater part of an hour, partly because the car park was a mile away, and
partly because I was about as fast as a snail. Still, it did give me a
chance to get to know this mystery man, that had transfixed me and
inadvertently cause my injury.

He had just graduated from university and came to my sleepy town to work as
an engineer in the computer plant just outside of town. I asked him what he
thought about my hometown, and it turns out he was born here, but his
parents moved to the city when he was young. He loved it here. The
atmosphere, the people and the food. It was a place he'd like to settle
down in.

'Returning to your roots, huh?'

'Something like that, yeah.'

I couldn't help but notice that he had a dreamy look in his eyes when he
said that. I wonder why?

Now, when we reached the car parking lot, we were faced with an even bigger
problem... how was I to drive home with a twisted ankle and not caused any
more extensive injuries? And as we pondered that very trivial question,
night was falling and the barn owls softly hooted their 'twoo-hoos'.

I finally decided and asked him to drop me over to a friend's place where I
could spend the night and recuperate, and he agreed.

'I'll get her to pick my car up tomorrow or something.'

'Suit yourself.'

Funny, he didn't seem particularly happy with that suggestion.

And so I ambled over to his car with his assistance and in five minutes, I
was seated in his sleek, silver Citreon Xantia. We drove off and were
within five minutes of Celia's house when he pulled the car to the side and
asked me to have dinner with him. Now, what was I supposed to say?

Half an hour later, we were seated by the seaside, munching on the pizzas
we had just bought from the plump, jovial lady who owned Bellissimo!. We
didn't talk much, really, largely because we had our mouth stuffed with
dough and cheese (three large pizzas is quite a lot to finish), but sitting
there did give me a chance to observe this chiselled specimen of man more
closely.

Matt had an incredible smile. It was the first thing I noticed about him
and continues to be the one thing I remember most about him.

Actually, he doesn't really smile, rather he grins; and shows off his
pearly white teeth. But what's so special about it is that when he
smiles... you know he's smiling at you. That you're the only person in the
world in his mind at that moment. And it's not a passing smile. You know he
really means it and it's meant for you, and you alone. At least, it seems
that way to me.

I could hear the sounds of plovers and assorted wading birds hunting for
fish and molluscs to feed on, carried by the wind. The wind that blew
continually through my and his straight jet-black hair. Taking a side
glance at him through bites of my pepperoni slice, I could see that he was
reasonably well-built; not a rippled muscle hunk from Bondi, but toned and
shaped in a way that was just perfect.

He wore a plain navy blue T-shirt with black track bottoms, which perfectly
complemented his hair and dark brown eyes. The full moon was reflected in
those striking pair of eyes, and when he laughed at a joke I told him and
smiled afterwards at me, they twinkled with fairy-like luminescence.

He's about the same height as me, 5 feet 9, and we were alike in many
ways. I'm similar in built to him, with the same straight raven hair and
dark brown eyes. However, I wear glasses, which he said made me look
incredibly intellectual.

'Great. Another person who thinks I'm a goody-two-shoes know-it-all'

'There's nothing wrong with being smart. In fact, I find intelligence
undeniably sexy.'

I took that as a compliment. What else could I do?

I reckon we sat there, on the rocks worn smooth by centuries of erosion by
the sea, for almost three hours. We talked, oh yes, we talked. Talked about
our interests, our past and our plans for the future. It was a most
peculiar conversation for I felt so comfortable with him, telling him
things that I keep private even to people whom I've known for years. I am a
very private person, who keeps much of my emotions to myself, and being
able to express it to somebody else was a new experience to me.

But to all things, an end.

It was late anyway, and he dropped me off at Celia's place where I spent
the night sleeping in her spare room; candles, drapes, tarot cards and
all. She's very much into the occult.

Celia got my car back for me the next day as I spent the entire morning
with a cup of Earl Grey, dreamily thinking of the previous night, talking
to Celia.

'How could you be so stupid? Slipping down while jogging?'

'Yes yes Celia. Rub it in. Push my head down and make mud pies with my
nose.'

'No mud 'round here. Why not your head in a flour and raw egg concoction?'

'Ladies first, dear.'

'But it really isn't like you. You're always very focused in things you
do.'

'Accidents do happen don't they?'

'Well, if you had allowed me to read your tarots, I might have seen
something.'

'Celia, as good as a friend you are, it pains me to say this. I don't
believe in the occult. I don't believe in magic.'

'You should. Because there is magic all around us.'

Like meeting Matt?

'Look here, girl. I've had one palm reader once tell me I'm to marry four
times and produce 13 children and another tell me I was never going to get
married. See why I'm a sceptic?'

'What about the time I told you would get slapped by Julia Kramer?'

'That was a1 co- '

'Coincidence?'

'Look Miss Celia Mulder; I'd rather live with the notion that I am in
control of my whole life than with the idea that my every move was etched
in stone way, way back in time.'

'Let's not argue ok? Hey, who was that cutie who brought you home
yesterday?'

'Erm... he was just someone I met at the track and helped me?'

'Hahahaha...... helped drive you here straight from the park at midnight?
What were you doing there in the dark?'

'Hey!!! Watc- '

'Alright, alright! Just joking honey. He's a keeper though. Is he single?'

'Dunno. Why don't you ask him?'

'Maybe I should take up jogging.'

'Maybe you should.'

The phone rang. It was my mom. I had called her last night to tell her of
my 'misfortune'. She wanted to know how I was, and whether she should make
lunch for me. My answer was in the affirmative. I wanted to go home. I
missed the comfort found in familiarity. And my soft fluffy bed.

As I put down the receiver, it struck me then. I didn't get his number last
night, and he didn't have mine. Damn. Now I would probably never see him
again.

But for the next few weeks, I kept a lookout for him, hoping that I'd be
able to bump into him somewhere.

Shopping, exercising, even to the point of eating at the same seaside
bistro. Everything I did had the ulterior motive of hoping to meet Matt
again.

But notice that when you want something desperately, you rarely get it?
That's what happened. It was amazing, almost as if he disappeared into thin
air. Worse of all, I think I was falling in love with him.

Two months later, I had almost erased all memories of Matthew until my
first scuba diving lesson. And who turned up but the Adonis himself.

'Sam?'

'Matt??!! Where the devil have you been hiding?'

'He's been keeping me as a retriever dog. Where have you been? The
newspapers reported nothing of a kidnapping recently.'

'Oh really? Are you sure you're not the one who was abducted by little blue
men from Uranus?'

Turned out that he had been on the lookout for me as well, but never seemed
to be able to catch the slightest glimpse of me. Deja vu.

'But at least I managed to meet you here, Sam. Don't forget to give me your
number this time, alright? Shake on it'

The warmth that surged from our handshake that radiated through me, that
even two hours in the swimming pool failed to cool me down.

And from there on, our friendship blossomed. We went out often, sometimes
with mutual friends from the scuba diving class, sometimes just the two of
us. We became incredibly close. Rare was the day when there was no
communication between the both of us.

Looking back, I think I looked up to him as a big brother. Since I am an
only child, I have never known the comfort of another sibling. He was the
personification of everything I had looked up to all my
childhood. Articulate, bright, witty, responsible and upright. There was
once when the both of us and two other friends went on a diving sojourn,
when we travelled by train. Matt and I sat side by side, and I was so tired
that I dozed off on the ride, my head falling on his shoulder. Before I
entered the world of dreams, I remember his arm curling round my shoulders
and pulling me closer to him. It felt safe and secure, like a big brother
would comfort his younger brother.

But more than that, my feelings for him ran deeper than that. It was
frightening. I was straight, I always knew I was. And yet whenever I saw
Matt, thought about Matt, all I wanted to do was take him in my arms and
kiss him. Was I straight? If I was, then why all these strange ideas about
him? Was I gay? Was I falling in love with another man? It was an
uncomfortable feeling, yet when I fantasized about us kissing,
uncertainties melted away. Was I really, truly in love with him?

Yet, through all those time, I never knew where his arrow pointed. There
was never any explicit indication of love or affection. Nothing
whatsoever. Heck, I didn't even know if he was gay. The foregone assumption
was that he was straight too, but there wasn't any evidence to support that
either.

I did bring up the subject one night, when we were talking about
relationships. He told me he was single, and I countered that if a bright,
handsome young man like him was single at his age of 24, suspicions were
bound to arouse.

'Sam, I wouldn't be single if I was gay, right?'

I dropped the subject.

Still, I couldn't help thinking about it. For he seemed to have an affinity
to lean on me, or have his hand on my shoulder, or giving affectionately
pats on the back and head. They seemed too 'tender' to be mere passing
demonstrations of friendship. It confused me.

One of our mutual friends did constantly tease Matt about me, alluding to
homosexual tendencies:

'Look Matt. See how nicely Sam's dressed up for you? Aren't you going to
ask him to sit beside you?'

'Right now Matt's probably holding up his mobile, thinking of Sam here.'

I said nothing. He said nothing. Nothing concrete happened, and we
continued as friends.

Then, things changed. It's inevitable. I was 19 and he was 24. I was to
leave my small sheltered existence to see the world; I was to further my
studies in the cultural melting pot of London. And he, a prodigious
engineer, was to be sent overseas for a training stint. Yes, I had my own
road to walk down and so did he. And never the twain shall meet.

Never the twain shall meet?

Hah! That may have been the bitter reality, but it never stopped my wishing
for a miracle. I could never stop thinking about him. Even though separated
by four hundred thousand miles, I could still picture him right in front of
me, smiling. And he always seemed to pop into my mind at random. During
lectures, in the library, during dinner. It wasn't healthy and I knew I
should try my best to get over it, but secretly...secretly, I wanted it.

But as time goes by, waves will still crash upon the shore and tides will
still change and my life still went on. And I finally got to a point where
I was finally able confront my demons and say that he and I were friends,
are friends and will continue only to be friends. After that, I pretty much
dropped all correspondence with him. Only the occasional Christmas or
birthday card here and there. Nothing more than brief reminders that he
still had a friend in me.

That helped. That lack of exchanges did help me so much. And on his part,
he did reply the scant few that I wrote. So, I might not have his hand, but
I still had his friendship.

I was such an innocent, naive boy, wasn't I? ...... I may have had wisdom
beyond my years (as many close acquaintances have told me), responsible and
levelheaded, but fundamentally I was still a child.

My university years flashed by like mercury. And during those three years,
I learnt so much. I gained so much. A plethora of knowledge in scores of
fields. Countless friends who've helped me in so many ways. Nameless faces
that have left their mark on me. Experiences that helped mould me into a
well-adjusted being. And like any other teenager in university, I had a
good many crushes. The difference was that I never acted upon any of them.

I guess I never did start a relationship with anyone for the simple fact
that I felt I wasn't ready. I was so carefree in those days, taking part in
so many activities that I never had a chance to when I was young, that I
wasn't able, or willing, to share my life with somebody else. Not at that
time anyway. And also for the simple fact that I never found anyone I loved
as much as Matt.


It was a night as clear and stunning as tonight the night my whole life
made a complete 360 degrees. I had completed my degree the year before and
was now working in a leading advertising company. I had a natural gift for
creativity I knew I had since I was a kid, and I was able to live
relatively comfortably and moving up the corporate ladder with some
swiftness. Winning the lottery helped too.

I can still feel the soft sand under my toes and the salty smell of the
ocean wind blowing in my face as I sat on the secluded beach cove in the
dark. I'll never forget that night for the rest of my life: it was the
night that he proclaimed his love for me. He whom I've never really stopped
loving saying those magic words to me. Those three magic words.

He had asked me out earlier that evening for dinner, and as I didn't have
anything planned that night, I agreed. Slightly surprised I was too, by his
sudden request. It wasn't really like him. He never struck me as an
impromptu, spontaneous person. But I hadn't seen for almost ten months
then, and I walked right into his parlour like the fly.

Mushroom soup. Roast beef sandwiches. And a slice of blueberry cheesecake
later, the both of us were sitting down on the velvet soft sand
chatting. Talking about our lives, about the hopes that we had and the
dreams that came true for us.

Then he did it.

It probably took all of five seconds to finish, but I remember everything
in slow motion. He placed his hand over mind, used his other hand to turn
my face towards him... and then, he kissed me...... and after I broke the
kiss, he just said the words.

He was immediately apologetic after that.

Breaking down.

Looking like a child who has just been confronted over the breaking of a
valuable vase.

Babbling things like he couldn't help it, that he didn't want to ruin our
friendship, that he was sorry he ever let his feelings show. Not that it
mattered, I couldn't hear a word he said, shocked beyond belief at what I
had just heard.

He looked so worried in the moonlight; his hair grew more and more a mess
as he repeated combed his hands through it while he looked at me with sad,
puppy-dog eyes. I had always thought of this moment, but never really
thought of what to do when it came. I still didn't. I just did what came
naturally to me. I kissed him back.

No, I had never kissed anyone before I kissed him. Not unless you include
the pecks I gave my mum and my family. This was different... this wasn't a
kiss I would give my mother. It was a kiss kept to be given to the person I
love.

It seemed like an eternity before we parted lips, and when we did, we just
sat there staring at each other in bewilderment. And then, Matt broke into
the most radiant smile I've ever seen. It was a smile that one would give
when one's dreams come true. And I could feel that same smile stretching at
the corners of my mouth.

He started laughing, the laughter showing the glee that he was
experiencing. And then he hugged me... his warm, strong arms around
me.... And I felt warm tears wetting my shoulder.... I hugged him back,
revelling in the feelings of joy that were rapidly coursing through every
vein and artery in my body, as we fell back and the sand cushioned our
fall.

I never got home that night. I never even went to work the next day. Called
up the boss and told him I had some urgent business to attend to and to
pass my work to my assistant. Since I'm such a model employee, she accepted
it without any questions.

Neither did he actually, for he gave the same excuse as I did to his
boss. We both just lay there on the beach till the morning broke the cover
of night, and we spent our first sunrise together. It was breath taking. A
golden sunrise marking a new era in my life. And his.

We talked a lot before dawn. Talked about how we felt for each other and
never knowing. I told him about all the emotions and feelings ending up
till that night, and his story perfectly complemented mine in every aspect.

He had the same feelings for me, since the day we met on the
jogging-track. And he had kept it hidden because he never knew how I'd
react. He told me about how I would suddenly appear in his mind at anytime,
and how he refrained from communicating too much because he was trying to
get over me. And how, after cautious and careful deliberations of pros and
cons, he finally decided to make the move because he had to know how I felt
for him. He was willing to give up our friendship just so he could say he
had kissed the man he loved.

Hmmm.... So there wasn't anything a spur-of-the-moment meal. The little
rascal had it all planned out in advance.

He moved in with me the next week. And since his tastes complemented mine,
there was little need for any redecoration. Both of us are have simple but
elegant tastes. Elegance does not go out of style and everything from the
china down to our wardrobe reinforces that mantra.

We did everything together from there onwards. Well, almost
everything. Aside from work-related activities, we each tried our best to
spend as much time with each other as possible. Cooked, cleaned and shopped
together (except for gifts, of course). And with him, I've had the best and
most fulfilling experiences of my life.

I guess that's what amazes me about him. He's a mechanical engineer; thus
supposed to be technical. Very technical. But he had an amazing artistic
side to him that one rarely finds in such an individual. It's that fine
balance of the technical and artistry of him that I find incredible.

Between the both of us, we earn a decent amount of money. Actually, we earn
enough to keep us in the high-income group. And with that, I can safely say
we've done as many things in our ten years together than many people
haven't in three lifetimes.

Snorkelling with the rainbow-coloured fishes of the Great Barrier Reef,
exploring ancient, rotting shipwrecks in the cold and murky English Channel
waters, braving the treacherous Rockies, trekking across and around the
wondrous Grand Canyon, bungee jumping above the raging torrents of New
Zealand rivers, exploring the mysterious jungles of the Yucatan Peninsula,
gazing up in wonder at the ancient Egyptian pyramids, Incan ziggurats and
Greek temples, skiing down the exhilarating slopes of the Alps.

I've taken him to see the great musicals of London's West End, New York's
Broadway, and experienced grand operas of Puccini and Verdi at La
Scala. He, in turn, has taken me to watch mesmerising ballets of
Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky in Russia and France, and escorted me to
magnificent and majestic orchestral performances around the world.

We've done so much.

But, you know, I could do without all those experiences. I could do without
all the wisdom and enlightenment they have brought me. All I cannot do
without is not having Matt by my side when I experience them.

It's remarkable in how many aspects we click. I've always known that I was
interested in almost every field of knowledge, from astrology to
zoology. And so is Matt. Is that why I love him so much more? Love is about
sharing with another, and I'm the luckiest man in the world to have a
person who loves everything I have to share with him, and he with me.

Had.


Shit, I think I feel those tears I've hidden so well over the past 24 hours
begin to well up. Why I force myself to relive my happy days, I do not
know. Maybe it's because I want to have one last look at them before I
scatter their ashes over the Styx.

The gusts of wind caress my cheek like a soft, gentle hand. It
feels.... Well, it feels like what Matt used to do. How I felt when we
first made love.

I remember, I remember all too well what it was like on that day. The
conflicting feelings of desire and uneasiness; of love and fear. It was
exactly one week after he had confessed his love to me, and one day after
he had packed his whole life and shared it with mine.

We had a glass of champagne to celebrate, after a dinner of venison
casserole.

'To the both of us, long may our love last'.

'To the both of us, Matt.'

I stared deep in his eyes. Those limpid, soft, puppy-dog eyes. Once the
crystal was emptied, we set our glasses down and Matt surprised me by
picking me up and spinning me around.

'What the heck do you think you're doing?'

'Nothing. Just that I'm overjoyed that I'm able to spend the rest of my
life with you'

'You big loaf! Stop this right now. I'm getting dizzy'

'Very well, my good sir. But know this; this knight of yours will want to
hold you in his arms till the sky crumbles to the earth.'

And we kissed. And with our lips locked together, he carried me to the bed.

I had never slept with anyone before, so I had no idea what to expect or
even what to do. I didn't have to. He put me down gently on the queen-size
bed and slowly traced every small line of my body, all while maintaining
unblinking eye-contact with me.

He ruffled my hair slightly and brushed his fingers over my cheek. Every
time he touched me, it was like a chalice of pure unadulterated bliss was
poured directly into my blood, pumping it through my body. All my nerves
were humming their pleasure at the anticipation of what was to happen.

He lowered his head and kissed me. A long, deep one, where he used his
tongue to slowly prise my clenched teeth apart to allow him passage to my
mouth. I responded by wrapping my arms around his back, around his black
silk shirt to pull him closer to me. And while he did most of the work
during the initial stages, I am a fast learner and soon I was doing to him,
what he was doing to me.

His warm hands slid down my torso and lifted my tucked-in navy blue polo
shirt, then running his hands over my bare skin. It continued like that for
each piece of clothing the both of us had till the point where there was
nothing left to take off.

I cannot describe what it is like to make love to someone, for the simple
reason that I have only made love to one man and one man alone. I do not
know what it is like to have a one-night-stand or a quickie, or any of the
oft-used terms in gay culture. I only know what it was like to bond with my
lover.

And the only thing I can tell you is that making love to someone that you
love is the greatest, most supreme sensation that one can feel. It was at
that moment that I truly realised what I had. His love for mine. A love
that is different from the love a mother gives her children, and her
children give her. A love that is different from the proximity shared
between two best friends. It wasn't about the sex. It had little to do with
the physical motions that nature compels us to go through. It was about
giving myself, body and soul, to a man that I was in no way connected to by
blood. It drove in the point that we were two distinctly separate human
beings becoming one. One in body, and one in soul. That night, we mad love
not only with our bodies, but also with our minds.

Throughout the past ten years, I still feel that sense of ultimate elation
whenever we make love. To me, it is a recording of my emotions, which I
replay every time. And I loved every second of it.

Waking up in his arms and his body next to mine every morning installed a
sense of security in me, the same feeling I had when I fell down and my
mother came to comfort me; the same feeling I felt during that train ride
ten years ago. For the first time in my life, I had lost my sense of
insecurity, because I had his confidence and love. All the world could toss
and turn and sink into the deepest ocean, but as long as I had him by my
side, I knew I would fear nothing.

And yet, despite the familiarity of everyday, Matt still had the power to
surprise me after all this time that we were together. Quick kisses in an
empty elevator, sudden hugs from the back while I was engrossed in
something else, taking my hand in his while walking in the park, sudden
rides on the playground swing. And on my 25th birthday, he gave me one of
the most pleasant surprises of my life.

I was walking down High Street with him the day before, window-shopping, I
saw the most adorable looking cocker spaniel staring out from a pet shop
window. It was white with golden brown patches all over it and eyes that
melted my heart there and then. I spent half an hour playing in the shop
with it until I realised that I couldn't buy it. We didn't have enough
space in our apartment for a pet and security did not allow pets of any
kind anyway. I guess the disappointment showed too plainly on my face. I
had never had a pet of my own, and I always wanted one. But now, the knife
was sinking into my flesh... I could never have one. Not even that small
puppy.

The next day, we celebrated my birthday at one of my best friend's house,
who had planned this party for me for three months. It was supposed to be a
joyous day for me, but I couldn't help thinking of the puppy I couldn't
own. That's me, the endless ponderer.

A small 'woof!' brought me back from my meandering world. I knew for a
certain that Stuart did not own a dog, so I thought it came from the
television. But it came again, and I turned round and I saw it. The dog
from the pet shop. Staring back at me. We looked at each other for a long
minute and then it leapt up, landing on my chest, and started licking me
all over.

'What the f---?!'

'Happy Birthday!!!'

'Matt! What is this... you know we can't...'

'Her name's Holly. I thought you might like this birthday present. I saw
how you looked like at the pet store yesterday and I knew what I had to
do. Holly's yours.... And mine, since I bought her.. haha... and don't
worry about management. I've sorted it out with them. Worked my charms over
them and we can keep Holly as long as we pay an extra 50 a month, which
will come out of my bank book. Happy Birthday man, you deserve it'

And from that day on, Holly became a part of our lives.

I don't know what surprised me more, that the usually strict and fussy
management had agreed to Matt's conditions or the thoughtfulness and
spontaneity that Matt displayed. Whatever it was, it sure did make me love
him more.


This utopian life we shared could have continued, I guess, but 'the history
of kingdoms is such that kingdoms long divided must unite, and kingdoms
long united must divide', according to an ancient Chinese saying. Basically
meaning that nothing is constant in the world.

That catalytic seed was probably planted in me a long time ago, back before
Matt, back before university, college or high school. And it probably
rooted itself deep inside me. But it only started sprouting on one fateful
day. Yesterday.

It was a Sunday; I had gone out for a walk in our local park and Matt had
gone out for lunch with his sister. I told them I didn't know what time I'd
be back because I wanted to join a friend of mine for a spot of bird
watching. Spending time apart these days wasn't an alien concept to us. We
frequently spent time apart now mainly because the both of us believed that
absence makes the heart grow fonder, especially now that the adolescence
had passed. I gave him a long, sensuous kiss before I left the apartment
though.

It was a wonderful day for a walk. The flowers were brilliant in their
colour, as vibrant as if buckets of paint had been freshly strewn over in
the park. The still lake shimmers with haze and hues of pink and green,
reminding me of Monet's arresting paintings of his lily pond. The air
sparkled with scents of fresh flowers and grass. I spent almost an hour
lolling around the paths and enjoying the sights... I was supposed to meet
Mark at the gazebo by the wooden bridge.... We were both avid bird lovers,
and intended to spend the rest of the day sitting in the shade of the
gazebo and observe the many species of birds flying all around.

Funny that when things are going right for you, something happens and it
turns sour? Mark and I were rapt with our observations of the feathered
kind that we didn't notice the dark clouds rolling in from the east. We
only noticed that something had gone the way of the wrong when drops of
rain starting pattering down on the roof.

'Shit!!!! What did I do to deserve this!!!???'

'Rats! Of all the luck! Darnit Sam...'

'Great! What are we gonna do now, Mark?'

'Ah geez... I don't think this is just a passing shower. Guess we'll
postpone this till next week?'

'But I've been looking forward to this all month.'

'So have I. But what can we do? Let's just go home.'

'Why are you always so resigned Mark? Surely we can do something else?'

'Like what? The bloody raining hell here and that makes me want to go home
and snuggle up with Celine. I suggest you go home and warm up by the
fireplace with Matt.'

'But Matt's having Mel over for lunch.'

'So?'

'So I don't want to barge in on their bonding.'

'Look Sam, they've had four hours together. And besides, you're Mel's
brother-in-law in everything but the law. Go! Shoo! Scat! Go home and spend
time with family. We'll do this next week.'

'Promise?'

'Promise.'

'I'm holding you to that, Marky boy. And it better not rain next week,
HEAR??!!!!!'

'If I didn't consider you one of my best friends, I'd have called in the
men in white by now. Honestly! Shouting to no one in particular?'

'It's one of my many idiosyncrasies. Besides, it sets me apart from the
cookie cutter slaves to trends and cools out there.'

'I'm not even going to comment on that. I won't be home till dinner if I
did. Now scoot!!'

'See you next week, pal'

'Cheers'

Bloody hell, it was the sound of the rain worst than a pack stadium at the
Super Bowl. I couldn't even hear the music from my car stereo over the
din. And it was Tchaikovksy's Romeo and Juliet overture. Darn. I was in the
mood for some enchanting music. I took me twenty minutes more than normal
to reach home, courtesy of the many mini-lakes that had formed in our
oh-so-brilliantly-built roads. Honestly, I should complain to the
council. Who needs to pay for a mudbath when we can get one free with every
issue of the rainy season.

Dripping worse than a scuba diver, I had particular trouble with our house
door. Darn blooming key just wouldn't go in. Or I was tense and
stressed. Not to mention bummed out. And just my luck, when I got my coat
off, the rain began to ease. Just one of dem' days. Certainly not mine.

'Mel, I don't know what to do? I'm so confused. Do I keep this secretly
stashed away or do I tell him? So many choices, and so many outcomes. I
don't know which way to go.'

His voice. That strong, confident and brotherly voice of his. So rarely
choked with emotion, except in dire circumstances. I remember thinking then
that this was the beginning of the end. There was something apocalyptic
about the way he said it. It certainly would fit into the allegory of the
day; starting of sunny and ending in shades of grey and black. I froze. And
listened to the stinging sounds wafting in from the living room.

'Matt, "Who could refrain, That had love in his heart, and in that heart,
Courage to make love's known". Macbeth. Scene 2, Act 3. You love Sam, Sam
loves you. Talk to him. He'll understand. He always has. And he always
will. And I'm sure he feels the same on this as you?'

'You think Mel? Yeah, I guess he probably does. Oh Mel, how can I tell him?
I've never been as in tune with my emotions as he has. Never been as brave
enough to express myself.'

'Damn it Matt!! You two have been together for what? Nine, ten years?'

'Ten years, 6 months and 5 days tomorrow.'

'And you remember that? And you still want to keep this issue clandestine
from him? Who says you're not in touch with your emotions? You were the one
who told him you loved him. You were the one who gave him the ring. Not
him! If you had never taken that first step, you wouldn't have this
wonderful life you have now. I know because he's told me as much! He's just
as afraid of expressing himself as you are! Great! I have two
non-communicators as brothers! Tell him, Matt. Tell him!'

'Exactly, Mel. Who would have happened if I hadn't told him? I've often
wondered. I've never been attracted to members of the same sex before I met
Sam. And then first time I saw him, it was like my world did a 180. I
couldn't help thinking about him. I still can't. But what if I never
plucked up my courage. What if I never went jogging that day? What if?
Would I be married with a family right now? I could plausibly be. Mel, I'm
35 now. I'm not getting any younger. And I think I want to leave my mark in
the world before I leave it. I want to start a family, Mel. Darn, if only
Sam was a lady.'

Ice-cold daggers pierced my heart.

'That's so hurtful of you! You and Sam can always adopt, right?'

'Yeah. Through a long and complex legal process. But Mel, it's so
different. I want them to be my own flesh. My own blood.'

My blood froze in the veins and arteries from the icy blast that had hit me
like a runaway Boeing 747.

'Well, I'm sure you can find a way around that. There are ways, you know!
We do live in a scientifically advanced world. How about a surrogate
mother?'

'Mel, I can't help wondering how my life would have turned out if I had
gone down Straight Avenue instead of Bent Highway.'

'MATT!!!!!!!!!'

Arrow after arrow of savage torment flies, true to its aim, into my
heart. My soul.

'Mel ..... I know it sounds stupid. I know it sounds like I'm forsaking
Sam. But I'm not! I love Sam, more than anything in this world. But there's
this little voice in my mind that has gone into hiding since I met Sam. And
now he's resurfaced, and painting images of what could have been in front
of my eyes.'

'SHIT!'

Slap!

'Mel.... What was that for?'

'For being a fool! You don't know what you've got till its gone, do you
brother? So you intend to take a big yellow taxi out of this house and pave
this paradise you've both built up, and find out that you wished you never
bulldozed it in the first place?'

'That thought had crossed my mind before.'

'Grr....... big brother.... I am warning you... if you ever do anything to
hurt Sam's feelings... I'll never forgive you.... I never will.... I swear
to the Almighty that I never will.'

A mind made up is one of the most potent tools in the world, and it stopped
the whirlwind of images and memories that I had been spinning around in and
rooted me to the ground. Cemented and steadfast. At that moment in time, I
knew what was to be done. In a split second, I had written a play that was
unfolding before my eyes.

I silently crossed the carpet towards the front door.

SLAM!

'Hi guys, I'm home! Man, what a horrid day it was today. Talk about a wet
fish of a day.'

'SAM!!!!! How are you, you devil! Haha, you're soaked! Better take a shower
or you're gonna get a chill.'

'Awww geez Mel... I think you can stop hugging me now. Unless you delight
in feeling like a mermaid. Hiya Matt! What's wrong with you. You look sort
of sheepish. What nasty crime have you committed this time?'

'Oh, he knows what he's done Sam. And with any luck, my advice will have
drilled through his titanium skull and he won't do it, won't he, Matt?'

'Sam, go have a shower. Your skin's looking blue and I don't want you to
catch a flu. I'll make us some hot cocoa.'

'Yes Captain Matt! Be right back'

I knew what I had to do. The script had been produced and dutifully
memorised. All that was left to do now was to play out my role with enough
conviction. All the world's a stage. And all the men and women merely
players.

'Mel, you'll stay for dinner, won't you? Matt's making his famous roast
lamb.'

'Ah Sam..... you tempt me. I'll stay, honey, just to keep tabs on my
sometimes-idiotic brother.'

Stick to the script. Stick to the script.

'Matt, you've outdone yourself today. This is the finest lamb that's ever
come out of our oven.'

'Only the finest for the finest of people.'

'Sam! Stop blushing!'

'You stop yourself, Mel. Anyway Matt, I'll make dinner tomorrow. I'm taking
the day off work.'

'Now that's a good one! The goody-two shoes breaking the rules for
once. Why the sudden need for leave, Sammy?'

'Urgh! Stop calling me that or I'll revert to Matty.'

'Ouch! Sensitive spot, Sammy.'

'You have one last chance to retract that statement, Matty.'

'Fine, I give up. You win, my dearest Sam.'

'Cringe-worthy, but never mind. I'm taking a day off because I've got stuff
to do. And before you ask, you won't find out till I'm ready to tell you.'

'Sa-'

'Hush now brother. Who's up for dessert.'

'The ice cream is in the lower right hand corner Mel. I'll have
Rum'n'Raisin. And Matt can have Horny.. whoops... I meant Crazy Chocolate.'

'Sam, are you trying to tell me something?'

'Shut up and finish your roast potatoes. That's a good boy.'

'You just wait, Sammy.'

'Uh-uh-uh. No speaking with your mouth full, Matty-Matt.'

'I give up.'

Exeunt.

'Bye Mel, it was wonderful seeing you again.'

'It was wonderful seeing you as well, Sam. And it was good to catch up with
you too, dear brother. And remember Matt, he who keeps silent about
severity, risks the severity losing everything.'

'Ever the philosopher, Mel. Bye dear. Love you sis.'

'Love you too, bro. And you too, bro-in-law.'

End of Act I.


Act II.

Scene 1

'Sam, your eyes are wet.'

'Well, excuse me! I just happen to find this movie rather moving. In any
case, I blame you. You rented the movie anyway.'

'In that case, I have a confession to make. This movie makes me weepy as
well.'

'Are you mocking me? Eat cushion, man!'

'Oh stop it! You're spoiling the sanctity of the scene.'

'Yeah, it is beautiful isn't it?'

'Everything. The script, the direction, the music; everything. Damnit, now
I'm starting to get teary.'

'Da daaaa da-da.....'

'I never told you this, Sam, but you've got a lovely voice.'

'Were you hit by the leg bone of the lamb you cooked? You've told me that
like over a million times. And that's no hyperbole.'

'But you d-'

'And you decided that all because I've sang the first bar of the movie
theme? "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."'

'But I do. Sing for me after the movie, please?'

'After it ends.'

Singing. It was one of my greatest pleasures in life. I loved just sitting
down in a quiet room or a lonely copse and singing my heart out. I rarely
sang in front of other people, though; mainly because I've always been
self-conscious. Time for some ad libbing in the script.

'I have often walked, down this street before,
but the pavement always seemed beneath my feet before,
all at once am I, several stories high,
knowing I'm on the street where you live.
Are there lilac trees, in the heart of town?'
Can you hear a lark in any other part of town?
Does enhancement pour, out of every door?
No, it's just on the street where you live.
And oh, the towering feeling,
Just to know somehow you are near.
The over-powering feeling,
That any second you may suddenly appear.
People stop and stare, they don't bother me,
For there's no where else on earth that I would rather be,
Let the time go by, I won't care if I,
Can be here on the street where you live.'
'That... that was beautiful, Sam.'
'I'm glad you liked it. May I have my fee now?
'Certainly, good sir. A kiss for the maestro?'
'A very thoughtful gift, fair sir.'
'Then perhaps you would like a few more?'
'Then perhaps this singer and his admirer should retire from the spotlight
to somewhere more.... private?'
'Oui.'


Scene 2

'I love you, Sam'

His head was lying on my chest. His arms wrapped around me. I was running
my fingers through his soft, raven hair and my other hand stroking the soft
skin on his back. It was a scene straight out of a romance movie, where the
two protagonists declare their love for each other. I couldn't deny it. I
love him too. With all my heart.

'I love you too, Matt.'

He lifted his head up when I said that, and brought his eyes to level with
mine. Those beautiful almond eyes, sparkling in the dark. Like Polaris, the
North star, guiding me home. I gave in to what was nestling in my heart,
and brought my lips to his. A gentle grazing of lips; tender and soft at
first, but soon picking up in urgency.

'Matt.....'

'Sam......'

Stick to the script.

What?? What was that? Who said that? That voice, it sounded familiar... it
was mine, wasn't it?

And then it all came back to me. My plan, my play. And I was going to go
along with it, not because I didn't love Matt, but because I did. For when
you love someone so deeply that the love graduates to a higher degree, you
are willing to sacrifice the skies and the heavens for him.

And so, as my body gave into the pleasures of the physical, my mind hovers
above us, watching in melancholic sadness every touch, every simple caress,
every shy movement we made; and knowing that this would be the last time I
would ever feel this way again.

And in the aftermath of our coupling, after the supernova that had wrecked
both our senses, as I slept with his warm, strong arms wrapped around me as
if protecting me from any harm, I started crying. Tear after pearly tear
slowly trickled down my cheek forming a small pool on the sky blue bed
sheets he had bought two Christmases ago.

He was asleep, but the effects of my quiet sobbing made him unconsciously
hug me tighter. But rather than soothing me, it squeezed out even more
tears than before.

But I... I was resolute. It was the best thing for the both of us. Yes, I
told myself in the still of the night it was the best thing, the correct
thing to do. And I told myself that again and again as the owls swooped
back to their nests and as a shard of light appeared in the East.

End of Act II.


Act III.

'Bye Sam. I'll see you at dinnertime. What are you cooking anyway.'

'Earthworm soup to start, followed by roast brain of FBI agent served with
salad of midnight shade, wolfsbane and belladonna. For dessert, I'm making
a chilled jelly of frog eyeballs. Don't have lunch.'

'Sounds gruesomely delicious. Well, I'm off to contribute my share of work
to the system designed to suck the lives out of us and make us mere gears
in a huge machine. At least I've got you to return home too.'

'ACK! You're crushing my bones! Hey... your tie's crooked. Let me fix
that.'

'I love you so very, very much.'

'Whatever. And let go of my hand. Hey... what were you and Mel arguing
about yesterday?'

There. I gave him a chance. If he took my bait, I just might improvise the
script. And if he swam away, then my course was already charted.

'That? That was nothing. Just a friendly sibling argument. Nothing
profound. Don't worry your handsome little head about that.'

'Sigh.... When will you learn that I despise having my hair ruffled.'

'I do know. I just love doing it.'

'Getcher' hands of my luscious locks. And pick up some doggy food for Holly
on your way back. We're running out. Bye!'

'~Goodbye, Goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow. That I shall say goodbye
till it be morrow~'

'Oh, get a move along! And don't u raspberry me!'

'Bye honey!'

I watched from the balcony as he climbed into his car. Before he ignited
the engine, he found time to look up and wave at me. And smile at me. It
almost breaks me heart; that smile. But he had his opportunity, and failed
to sieze it.

Then so be it.

I spend the rest of the day removing every trace of me from the
apartment. Every possible thing that could remind him of me, I pack away in
my suitcase. Photos, pictures, books, CDs, ornaments, decorations;
everything. Every present I ever gave him - that platinum Rolex watch, my
grandfather's navy blue tie and pure gold tiepin and cufflinks - I
carefully place in boxes.

By 3 pm, seven hours after he left the apartment, there isn't a trace of me
in sight, save the echoes of my footsteps and the whispers of my words. The
sole thing that we shared together that I leave behind is Holly. My darling
Holly. Our darling Holly. I leave her behind because I know that losing two
loved ones in a day is worst than losing merely one.

The clock strikes 4. I have now got 2 hours before Matt returns home, and
there is still so much to do. I bustle around the kitchen getting
everything ready. Dicing, slicing, cutting, sauteing, frying.

By 5.30, the dining table is set. For one. Pan-fried poussin on cauliflower
puree with a red wine dressing, with thyme-roasted potatoes and seafood
toasts, and caramelised hot peach souffle. I leave a single candle
burning in the middle, and a stalk of blood-red rose resting on a
cream-coloured letter.

Then I leave. I carry the four suitcases into which I've packed my entire
past ten and more years and put it in the boot of my black Porsche. And I
drive away just as the mountains in the West begin to swallow the sun. Act
IV isn't for me to see. For me, my role ends here.

 End of Act III.


That was four hours ago. Four hours since I evacuated from my life. Four
hours of non-stop driving along deserted highways, taking turnings at whim;
all to get far, far away from what I've left behind.

I don't know where I am. I don't know which county or country I'm in. I
don't know how I got here. But I don't really care. I know that I'm facing
north, for I can see the sword of Orion just beneath his belt, pointing
towards Ursa Major, which leads me further down the horizon to the Lesser
Bear.

I glance down my frigid hands. It was still there, shining as brightly as
it did nine years ago. It was a simple platinum band that was his gift to
me on our first anniversary. Inscribed on the inside were the words 'To my
darling Sam, je t'aime, Matt'. I really should throw it away. I really
should. But I don't. And so, I let it lie there, gleaming on my third left
finger, as dazzling as the constellations above.

I see Sirius, the medallion of the dog, shining brightly. I see Perseus,
riding Pegasus, rescuing Andromeda from the jaws of the sea monster, and
from Cepheus and Cassiopeia, her father and mother.

I can see the eternal twins, Castor and Pollux, brothers of Helen of Troy;
of different fathers, but as tightly-knit, if not more, than any other
pairs of twins. It strikes me then, it's his zodiac sign.

And then I see my sign. To the immediate right of the twins. The bull. The
ox. Taurus. The eye of which is like a piercing diamond gleaming in the
dark. Even our birth signs are next to each other.

Out here in the wilderness, the stars seem to shine infinitely brighter
than ever before. Is this how the ancients saw the heavens thousands of
years ago? Is this how they imagined the tales of Homer drawn out in the
vast, unending sky? The stars, they are brilliant tonight. I wish... I wish
he was here with me to watch them.

Ambivalence is an emotion that is present in everyone's everyday life. I
regret, and do not regret my decision. I still think that it was the best
gift I could ever give him - setting him free from our shackles and
allowing him to roam the Elysian fields in search of a greater happiness
and contentment.

I try not to think of the nirvana I've turned my back on and attempt to
think of what lies ahead of me. But the crystal ball is clouded by the
wispy spirits of memories - for the past is like a string of elastic. The
more you try to run away from it, the more it stretches; until it can
stretch no more, and then it snaps and hits you back with the force of
Achilles.

Maybe I am a fool to leave; a coward that refused to confront the balance
of the scales of Fate.

Naught's had; all's spent,

Where our desire is got without our content.

But then again, maybe I am selfish, and not contemplating that this is
perhaps what he wants. Perhaps. What he wants, I'll never know, because he
didn't clasp the dagger and screw his courage to the sticking place. Yes, I
am hurt and vexed that he didn't think enough of me to talk to me about
this. But no matter, the train was already ploughing full-speed ahead and
that incident merely added fuel to the crescendo, amplifying the final
impact.

Ah.... I ponder too much. It is my tragic flaw. I guess that's what you get
when you're an only child with a busy mother and a father dead by the age
of six. You find solace within yourself. You are your own company; your own
friend because precious few others understand you. But I should stop
dwelling now, for I have to journey on towards nowhere and build a new
existence on my own.

And so, as I insert my key into the car door, I allow myself one last
indulgence before I store these thoughts away for good. It is the
recollection of the letter I wrote him. I can still remember it, word for
word.


~

Dear Matthew,

Sounds bad, doesn't it? I haven't called you that for ages. I guess this
sort of underscores the severity of this situation. Before you read any
further, I would like you to play the CD in the stereo. Thanks.

' If I, should stay,
I would only be in your way.
So I'll go.
But I know.
I'll think of you, every step of the way.  '

Yeah, it's that song. You know, Dolly Parton wrote that song about Porter
Wagoner because she felt it was the only way she could end their
relationship. Granted, that relationship was professional, but it describes
the conflicts of saying goodbye perfectly.

If you don't know what this letter is about by now, wake up and face
reality. I'm sorry I have to do this, but like you said, we're not getting
any younger. I heard what you and Mel were arguing about yesterday
afternoon. And I have to say, that I've always felt that way, ever since I
met you. What it would be like if I had fallen in love with a girl, instead
of falling in love with you. But I've suppressed those feelings for so long
now, until you unleashed them yesterday.

Like you Matt. I've always wanted children. It has been one strong constant
ever since I was a child. It was born by the twin catalysts of being an
only child and losing a father that I never really had. But until yesterday
those feelings were never brought to the surface. I don't know what
suppressed them in the first place, but I do know what brought them back.
I, too, want a family. And I don't think my life is complete without one...

' Bittersweet memories.
That is all I'm taking with me.
So goodbye,
Please don't cry.
We both know, I'm not what you need.  '

And so I've decided. It's time to call it quits. I'm heading for a place
that I don't even know the name. Where you head now is up to you. But go
on, explore the liberation I've given you. Find a lady who'll love you as
much as you'll love her. Start a family, raise your beautiful children to
be bright, upright citizens as you are. Grow old gracefully while watching
you grandchildren grow up and bring you the ambrosia that only your flesh
and blood can give you. I can only promise you I will try to do the same
with my life.

Sigh...ten years, six months and five days... you remember as well as I
do. Where has time gone? It seems like only yesterday that I saw the
universe spin in your twinkling eyes by the beach, the night we first met.

And so, I want to thank you for the love you've given me all these years.
All the joyous experiences we've had together. They wouldn't be half as
joyful if you weren't by my side with me during them. Remember our glacier
hike in Norway? When we were standing on the edge of the cliff looking at
the cosmic plains stretching before us? It's that top of the world feeling
that I could only have discovered with you. And it's a feeling I've had
countless times over the past decade.

' I hope, Life treats you kind.
And I hope, you have all you've dreamed of.
And I wish you joy,
And happiness.
But above all this, I wish you love.  '

So goodbye, farewell mi amor. Try to forget what we had, rather think of
what we didn't have and looking towards a future where you can have exactly
that. Erase all your memories of me, please. I do not want to be a spectre
haunting the moors of your mind. It will bring us nothing but the ache of
dreams lost.

I hope you will find what you've wished for. And I hope it brings you
outmost joy and elation. I wish you all the best, and most of all I wish
you love.


Love,

Sam

' And I will always love you.
Will always love you.
I will always love you...... '

~

~Fini~

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ah well, that's it. Words cannot express the release that it has given me.
I don't know if you enjoyed reading it, but writing it did lift a huge
weight off my shoulder. and, I dunno, I can be reached at
inturbulence@hotmail.com if anyone wants to contact. Oh well. To bed, to
bed. Night falls, and we must fall too.