Monday, March 19, 2012

Saturday Night



Weekends and long holidays used to be my favourite part of the week, as it used to be my special time with Munchkin.  People at work are used to me greeting them my early TGIF salutations starting on Thursday afternoons.

However, things have changed.  No more lovely weekends and blissful holidays.  In fact these days, spending my weekends (and most likely long holidays in the future) are tough and painful.

My friend tells me that I feel this way because I am just used to the convenience of the past.  She reckons that I need to let go of the past and start building new memories in order for me to appreciate the present and embrace the future.

I hate to think that I am holding on just for the sake of convenience, habit, and familiarity.  And so to prove it to myself, I have now filled all my weekends with various activities and spending time with some friends, which I have been unable to do.

Last weekend I had already planned my days ahead with my housemate, “S”, that when our next-door neighbour dropped us a note for a late night street party invitation, we planned to decline.  We are both not used going out late at night, and we are like Cinderella who turns in to pumpkin at the strike of midnight.

We attempted to escape from my neighbour’s invitation to join them in the street party.  But funny, how when you try to escape, you get yourself caught red-handedly trying to escape, that embarrassment compels you to just give in and ditch any form of excuses.  It was clearly a last minute twist of event.

Upon reaching the venue, I was just following the pack, feeling overwhelmed with the massive turn-out of people.  However, in the midst of the crowd, I feel lonely.  I miss Munchkin. Oh, how much he has depopulated my world.

I smiled and laughed, pretending to be happy. Our neighbours were taking pictures.  I posed for the camera.  I need to look happy, for the benefit of my family, so that when the pictures are posted in Facebook they will think that I am moving on and that I am now feeling better.

However, truth of the matter is, deep inside I wished Munchkin was there with us in the party, holding my hand and making me feel secure amidst the crowd.  As I imagined the feel of his hands, my eyes swelled and tears were almost starting to build up.  But S gave me the look and the nudge, telling me to enjoy the moment, listen to the music and cry later when I get home.  

And like an obedient child I nodded, then slowly following the beat of the drum, I tapped my feet, and gradually, as I listened to the music, I felt the rhythm surround me.   Suddenly, I was on a world of my own.  I danced to the beat of the music, like no one is watching. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was dancing with my Munchkin.  I forgot all my cares in the world and surprisingly I had fun and I enjoyed it.

However, my carefree moment was interrupted when some random Irish guy hopped in out of nowhere and burst my bubble. The image of Munchkin vanished from my side and now I see a face of this blonde guy who introduced himself and wanted to dance with me, as he said it is St Patrick’s Day and it is part of the tradition to dance with an Irish.  I was at first startled and confused, with some hesitation, I accepted the invitation to dance.  However this time I was of course more conscious and guarded.  As the song was about to finish, he suddenly grabbed me closer and leaned towards my face.  He tried to kiss me, but my instinct was faster and I ducked away and managed to escape by pretending to make a dance turn and swiftly I took a big stride step and positioned myself in the middle of a group. 

From then on, I was awakened to the surroundings around me. Amidst the sea of people, I feel like I am drowning. In the thick of the multitude I looked around... searching... and hoping to catch even just a glimpse of Munchkin...  Sadly he was not there.

This is what I get for going out at night and dancing like crazy. I will never dance again in the crowd. At that moment I wanted run and seek the comfort of my Munckin’s strong arms and loving embrace… There is no other man I would rather hold hands with than him; no other man I would like to hug than him. However, his embrace is no longer available for me.

I miss my Munchkin and I how I wished he was there with me, every single moment.  Yes, I miss my Munchkin not because of convenience or habit or familiarity, but because I love him.

I then searched for S. It is time for us to go home.  I am now turning in to a pumpkin.  It is definitely home time.  It is clearly now crying time.

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