The night we went out alone for the first time (I think) coinceded with the fluff and flurry of the inaugural Romancing Singapore campaign. We laughed at my disasterous thesis first draft that drove my supervisor to down gin tonic and panadol (or so she claims), visited ex-teachers, watched a performance, went down to Clarke Quay to listen to love songs, ended up in an Indian restaurant, all in the course of one day and night.

He walked me to the station at the end of it but not before he stopped before the poster for the campaign. Reading aloud "the little things" the poster was advocating, he looked at me, smiled and said, well we have done all these, have we not.

Things have changed since then, at least for him. And I am unmovingly still, untouched, at that plateau where I was when he first knew me. Perhaps there has been some progress but the advancement, I fear, at times, may be entirely negligible. And between the two of us now, no love lost, literally, I assure you, no matter how things appear otherwise previously.

I can't believe it's been only a year, and a year already.

I don't know why I'm bothering to blog this bit of past that's a blot on my perfect page. Especially when I have made myself very clear to this person that I would very much prefer to be left alone, thank you very much, without him butting in superficially and superfluously.

But I do wish that I did document my life in 2003 so that I have my words to prove some things to myself. And to commemorate my efforts at thesis-writing. Woah, the latter is a crazy affair.

Nevertheless, some things are better left unsaid by you, by me. We can both move on in separate directions with nary a care.

Some things are best forgotten. Others best forsaken. Those that we can do neither, do let's ignore and take it they never quite happen. Let sleeping dogs lie.