E Penso A Te

Tonight at dinner, A. asked me whether or not I still thought about C. There was a rush of feelings that surged up inside me as I nodded and replied, "Yes, of course. A lot."

I think of him a lot when I'm driving. We used to go everywhere together and the seat beside me still looks strangely empty when I put the car into gear. I think about the coffeeshop in Bukit Merah we would drive to every morning before work.
I think about the times we read the papers in the airconditioned coffeeshop we would go to sometimes -- me eating eggs and kaya toast and him eating nasi lemak. I think about the nights I would drive to his office to fetch him home and the Sunday mornings when I would drop him off for Japanese class at Bugis. The afternoons I would pick him up from Tuas after reservist. I think about the morning he went with me to collect the Beetle. I remember how happy he had been for me.

I think a lot about the times we spent in the rented flat at Pasir Ris. How we went grocery shopping together at the strange standalone supermarket with bus lots for car park spaces. How we used to drive to Changi Village to eat at night. I think about how he used to go with me on endless trips to the fish farm and how we would choose coral and anemones from the large open tanks. I think about all the times we went swimming with a long blue tubed float that we stored in the kitchen and how we were stumped by how to remove the moss that had grown in the terrace.

I think about him most often in the night before I go to sleep. I think about how I used to steal the duvet from him at night. I think about the nights we spent watching Survivor and The Apprentice on TV and episode after episode of Queer As Folk on DVD. I think about the nights spent falling asleep by the flickering light of the TV -- him watching Taiwanese game shows on mute, listening wirelessly via headphones. I think about him playing World of Warcraft in the living room, the "ker-ching" of XP being chalked up and the arguments we would have about over-playing. I think about the parties we used to have, about the food that he would cook and how great he was with my friends and colleagues. I think a lot about that one year I celebrated my birthday just after I came back to the newsroom, how everyone was late and it looked like the party was failing. I remember feeling so glad that he was there for me, and how he had been there for me through so many birthdays.

I think about the special moments we had that I can never forget. The night we spent at the Beaufort and singing in the private jacuzzi at Banyan Tree Bintan. Having tea in the famous tart shop in Daikanyama and always going to the Nike store in Kichijoji. I think about us on the street in Ginza, puzzling over why the compact flash card didn't work in the camera I had just bought. I remember him writing in his Multiply diary how much he loved Taipei. I think about him beside me in Japanese class, coming to my rescue when I didn't know the answer.

Of course, I also think about the bad things. All the times I failed him in big and small ways. The time I wanted to leave early from a school reunion he had, when he obviously wanted to stay. The times I wanted to go travelling and made him worry about his finances. I remember all the household chores I was too lazy to do and all the times I made him feel small by not listening to what he had to say. And I remember, crystal clear, all the times I made him cry. I think a lot about the day he left and I still remember, verbatim, some of the things he said to me. How he thought of just leaving me a note and disappearing. I think a lot about that, especially. I think about how I didn't know at all that things had become so bad.

I think a lot about what he is doing now. I imagine him rushing about from place to place with the boundless energy he has. I think about him helping out at community events and festivals, and discussing politics with his friends and online. I think about him going to school at night after work and how well he must be doing in his studies. I think about whether he goes to the gym, whether he has bought new bags and shoes (which he loves). How much Diet Coke he is drinking and whether or not he has put on weight.

But most of all, I think about whether he is happy now and if he thinks about me much at all. I think about how deeply I still love him and how I miss him so much.

So yes, I think a lot about him. And how all the love I still have inside now means so little to anyone but me.

""Eventually I learnt how to love someone, but you had disappeared into the faceless crowd,'' sang Taiwanese songstress Renee Liu. ""And so I came to understand that you can let a person slip away, but that mistake will be for life.''