Waxin’ Lyrical

Has it only really been just a month?

Of course, I’ve known you for much longer than that. In the few months I’ve been here, you’ve grown from being just “that cute girl in Lit class”, to “Jamie’s friend”, to “Jamie’s friend who played Chrono Trigger and Xenogears zomg!” to “Jamie’s ‘friend’ “, to “girl who asks dreadfully pointed questions that threaten to pierce that veil I always put on”, to “late night/early morning email buddy” to “girl sleeping on my futon” to “‘Oh gawd am I just feeling lonely and on the look out for a rebound’ girl” to… what you are now. Someone I truly love, someone whose eyes I gaze into and think “Ahh, but to look at you till the stars themselves go out…”. Someone whose hand fits so nicely in mine, someone whose pointed chin I always welcome atop my head, someone whose embrace never fails to send waves of pleasure coursing through my veins. Someone whose smile remains ever bewitching and capable of reducing me to a quivering mess.

Someone whom I hope remains here, smiling at me, for the rest of our lives.

Indeed, sometimes it’s hard for me to believe that we’ve come so far together. All of it really did start that day, a month ago, when you decided to come over to cook me a meal in return for that mishmash of meat, scraps of vegetables and left-over rice I call fried rice that I cooked for you. As you lay there on my futon, so unabashedly defenceless in the presence of a guy you only kind of knew, something clicked, some mechanism in the fibre of my being fired up, and the possibilty of me falling in love with you became a question mark, as opposed to an impossibility. That question mark slowly lost its curious arc, shedding its tail and solidfying into a full stop as you and I exchanged emails through the night, as we traced the outline of each other’s psyche, probed this way and that on past loves, family, spectacles, life, death, and everything in between.

As a rule, I generally don’t talk much about things I don’t know. One of the things I *do* talk a lot about, however, is myself - after all, who really knows me better than myself, right?

And yet somehow, in the midst of your questioning, your inability to let my oft-rehearsed answers brush aside your need for understanding, I found myself reexamining the things I’ve accepted as part of my being. Things I’ve held onto as central to my being for years now have had their layers of lazy reasoning peeled away by your inquisition, and as I struggled to defend my position in faltering Japanese, I began to recognize how much of it was just pure word games and lofty language, and how much of it remained firm and unbending in the face of critical inspection. Still, it’s a refreshing feeling, having to justify the crazy hotch-potch of half-baked ideas and naive philosophy I hold dear as my own. It’s a refreshing feeling, to know that you really do care, that you really do want to understand why I think the way I do, why I view life the way I do.

That you seem to already know me so well in so short a time surprises me as well. You catch me off-guard when you seem to see right through me, telling me I’m afraid of losing your love, predicting that I wouldn’t know how to respond to a dirty joke coming from a girl. I’d even go so far to say that sometimes it seems you might know me better than I do, as you call me out as being someone who craves affection, despite me normally regarding myself as the direct opposite. You might know me better than I do, and yet, even now you still say “I still don’t know much about you”.

I am naked in your presence, all my flaws and shortcomings lay bare, bereft of the protection of the armor I usually wear to keep the world at bay. The poses, pretences and canny one-liners that normally work so well at maintaining an arm’s length distance slide off you like water off a duck’s back. Your smile, that mischevious glint in your eyes only further serve to further disarm me, till I can do little but hold you in my arms and hope you never leave my embrace.

You are my one girl in all the world. And I hope that never changes.

This entry was posted on Monday, January 29th, 2007 at 2:04 am and is filed under Journal Entry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.