Z & C (4)

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

                                                                                      - Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen 

(i)

     It is too long ago. When I try to remember, I see a few golden moments shining out of the dustiness that seems to meld into each other. All the days that seemed so precious, has faded into oblivion, unnoticed, while we had continued to live on. It is almost as if the past never existed, if we don't remember it.

   It is like the words I told ZM when we left Holland to return to Singapore. I remember looking back at our compartments that pretended they were houses, all the things we had done in our last year, all the life we had lived, and feeling it disappearing already as the bus rode on. I had looked at ZM and told him, "Don't become a memory".


(ii)


    I have no sense of direction. When we arrived in Utrecht, we made our way by always returning back. Re-tracing our steps, as our paths get longer and longer and we slowly etched the route of the city centre in our veins.

   ZM promised me on the first day that he would always find me if I was lost. He was still only just a friend then, but there was a ball of thread unravelling. And if that ball of thread ran loose, he would be the one on the other end.

    We took a long while to set up our mobile plans, so we practically had no form of external communication except good old being physically present in the same space. What we will do would be to go knock on each other's windows.

   G, ZM and I had formed some form of routine for our meals - lunch and dinner together, and I insisted we would have one day (Wednesday) alone. The boys could meet if they want to - but I would go off and explore. It was nice, in the sense, that I could be a girl again, without feeling like I was dragging the boys into places they rather not be.

  There was one Wednesday when I came back rather late, but not too late since the sun practically sets by 5 pm, and ZM was not around. This was strange since we were going to have dinner together. So, I started preparing dinner anyway, since he would turn up sooner or later.

   He turned up rather late, sweating, and exhausted on his bike. He looked at me with mild anger. "Where were you?"

  "Here?"

  "I went to look for you," He said.

   I apologised and said I didn't know he did.

   He gave a look, "I left a note."

  "You did?" I frowned. "I didn't see one when I returned."

   "It's outside!" He insisted.

   He brought me outside and pointed.

   I laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

   He pointed to a small flowerpot with almost dried-up flowers. We were given a flower pot each from the supermarket because they were dying and they were going to throw them out.

  That was his flowerpot. His tiny flowerpot saying I was here and I've gone to look for you.