Rogue Shadow

"The big TWO ONE, eh?" they all ask excitedly. Was today much different than it was yesterday than it will be tomorrow? Or is it just an excuse to get free gifts and for mom to have lobster?

I put on my biggest smile. Dolled myself and peppered me in perfume. I can hear the mirror saying "You look gorgeous, babe. Even if it isn’t you".  The past few days had been a shit storm, and my birthday seemed less and less exciting as it approached. I told them, I don’t want a surprise this year. It will just depress me coz Ian wouldn’t be here.

I managed to call him, and for those brief minutes, I genuinely smiled for the first time in 3 weeks. But that would be the last I would hear from him until the next 4 months, for he will be in Missouri (yes, I’m aware of the irony of the pronunciation of the place and my current state) for training.

As I tried to sleep that night, I recall the times we gazed at the moon from the Roof Top Theater. There were hardly any stars, but the moon was always ever so loyal.
It was as if the nights would veil us from all others, and in our solitude, we would cry without shame, or laugh without care. I remembered how we held hands to comfort each other’s fear. How we wished we were a million miles away from here. So we would no longer need the night to veil us. In that moment, we were free.

That feeling of sheer liberty was absent that night I turned 21. The myth is that this is the year you get your key of freedom. But I went to bed that night and awoke in the same cage. Pretense, judgment and expectations engulf the dreams of this urchin.

It’s not that I want to sound ungrateful to my family and friends, who have been doing their best to celebrate, and I appreciate it. But at times, I look into their eyes and I see sympathy, and I feel they believe me to be pathetic. Immediately, the shackles are strapped on, and I fall helpless.

I wish for those nights when we were free.

When Isma called to inform me of what had transpired, I felt sick. I felt disgusted that someone would have the heart to resort to what he had done. Most people think this will all blow over, and I believe that. But in the meantime, there is my name and my mother’s associated with porn on fuckin youtube. 

So I went and did the impulsive thing. I retaliated. Chose the same medium he did to speak up for myself. Other’s may say I am classless, and should just be silent. "People already know he’s an idiot, you need not use a public domain to remind them. " "It’s bad form".

And I agree. Whole heartedly. In retrospect, I was just as childish as he was. I was just as unprofessional as he was.

But after what he did with his post on youtube, the effect was no longer professional. It was personal. He didn’t just take a nab at me, he had smeared my mother’s good name with his actions. And although I know people know better, it felt wrong for me to simply keep quiet.  People are looking me up simply because they think they are going to watch my mother’s daughter get raped. What would you do if someone did that to your mother?

So here is my public apology to all the people at Malaysian Cinema. Because my post was irrelevant to the industry. I had taken up your time, to simply read me rant. This will be my last post on your site regarding this matter. I promise. Thank you.

It’s been two weeks now since Ian left to join the US Army. I hadn’t felt like writing much since. In fact, I hadn’t felt like doing anything at all, save scrambling for the PC for our online dates (which are never certain, mostly ad hoc). I’d stay at home all day, and when I convince myself I’d be better outside, I regret it when I put on them shoes. Because being outside, everything reminds me of him. Hell, even at home, it’s like my day was arranged to merely go through our memories. It doesn’t help that I haven’t started working yet after the last fiasco of a telemovie. And all the time, I’m thinking "I’ll get through this. I’ll be fine. It’s like he’s just stuck at home in Balakong".

Did I mention it’s only been two weeks?

I’m becoming bitter and closed off. I don’t feel like talking, hanging, goofing off. Yesterday I practically forced Ines through an hour’s walk to 7-11. She was clueless as to why I was so insistent, especially since we discovered the route we took was too dangerous to cycle on, so we had to walk with our bikes the whole way. She kept suggesting we turn back. I kept saying "we’re almost there!" There was this truck that just stopped in front of us, at the side of the road, just to stare and scare. Ines was terrified. I could see it. But I kept pushing on.

Ines asked me later why I didn’t want to turn around. At that moment, for the life of me, I just didn’t know. In my head, I knew it was a bad idea. Mom would’ve killed me. So why didn’t I?

At first I thought, I just needed to walk and clear my thoughts. Distract myself, sweat and convince myself I’m doing it to lose weight. But then it dawned upon me, that it was a physical manifestation of what I’m doing here with Ian. So many people have been telling me "You’re out of your mind, El. A long distance relationship? Over FOUR years, AT LEAST?" With confidence, and I admit, a bit of cockiness, I said "We will cross the bridge when we get there. But until then, why quit?"

As I recall the route we took, it was winding and long. Cars zooming past really close to us (not like they didn’t have a whole fucking lane for themselves, but Malaysian drivers are assholes). Potholes and rocks. We even saw a dead baby snake. Was this a sign? I saw the fear in Ines’s face. I knew it reflected how I really felt inside, despite me telling her to not be such a baby. And now, I feel that fear was never physical, never about going to 7-11. It was a fear more real, more deep than that.

I am scared shitless over Ian and I being apart.

In 11 days, Ian enters boot camp. We will not have contact for at least four months. Thats approximately ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY DAYS. I go crazy if I don’t get to see him online for just 1 day. And he won’t be off doing  crap like Khidmat Negara. This is fucking military boot camp. And he will be doing combat engineering. AND he’s getting airborne. So that would be 120 nights of me NOT sleeping.

But something restored (although at time it does falter) my strength and faith. Something made me believe we would both get through this. Something guaranteed me that even if I fall, I will get right back up and just dust myself off. Something told me "You’ll be just fine".

Slurpee.

That’s right. SLURPEE. When I had that first sip of ice cold sugary goodness quenching my drought stricken throat and cooling down my blazing sweaty body, I thought "That was worth it." And I finally felt the wind blow on my face that before I had not realized as I was too tired, too afraid. But I kept pushing myself because I knew I had to to get to that Slurpee. And got to it, we did. Something we wouldn’t have got if we had turned around.

So, was it a sign? Well, I’ll read it as one. Because "Nobody said it was easy. Noone ever said it would be so hard." I knew it was gonna be tough. I just had no idea HOW difficult it was going to be exactly. It was a lot more easier said than done. And at times the temptation to quit and turn around is very hard to resist, because the road seems way too long.

But I will not allow my fear, my fatigue, my family, my friends to let the wind escape me. I will feel every breeze through that uphill climb. Bring on the potholes and dead baby snakes.

Coz I won’t quit till I get that Slurpee.