In relationships, the most common feeling I had was that lump in my throat. Things I always wanted to say, feel and do. In [in]opportune times, I would do things I had romanticised in my imagination. My verbose imagination always left me off guard and often on recounting those experiences, I would blush and slap my head and scream in my bed - all alone. At seventeen, I remember I really wanted to put my head on the shoulder of a nineteen year old boy I liked. We were in the karaoke room with his buddies, they were belting out their favourite korean songs and the smoke from the cigarettes looked like dry ice. He was blowing those smoke circles, creating a dirty halo that lingered above his head. He was my tragic, reckless hero. Placing my awfully pink mui mui bag on his shoulder, I rested my head on my handbag (indirectly on his shoulder). That was the closest I could ever get. I remembered that day like a photograph for over five months, constantly reinterpreting the nuances of each gesture.
At eighteen, my curiosity gave way. I had my first boyfriend and I was so traumatised by all the hand-holding and hugging while waiting for the pedestrian light to go green. I fell into a deep coma on the monorail with his hand on my waist. I could hardly look him in the eye without feeling a little awkward and stupid. I remember the only time I saw him cry was when the chilli was burning his throat from the genkikara ramen. He was never one for many words, and when we parted ways, I took on that characteristic of his. I was mute for many months.
At nineteen, a couple of unfaithful boys came into my life. One of the boy's favourite phrases were 'pull my finger!' and 'you cheat every time we play scrabble!' The last time we saw each other, he threw rocks at my second floor window. Another once said to me, 'Do you think there will ever be a place for me in your life in the future?' and then said 'I drank a six pack of beer, hoping that what I said to you I didn't mean. It was just a slip of the tongue. That it was all a mistake. But after the second, I fell asleep. I'll never know, and don't think I should know how truthful I was.'
There was a morning when I woke up with panda-eyebags, and someone said to me 'you look twice as beautiful in the morning.' I choked for a couple of seconds and burst into laughter. That lump in my throat was benign after all.
