For The Pleasure Of Seeing Him Again

The Inanity, Insanity and Incongruity of It all.

Only for the pleasure of seeing him again.

*

It was an utter relief to be with him again. I can't really explain.

He has become a staple that anchors my world.

Just the thought of never having his companionship again screws me inside out.

So. I'm rather glad we went out even if it's at the expense of me eating my words.

I'll just have to write more to make up for the lack.

*

Nothing particularly exciting happened. I monitored my thoughts and was happy to find them comfortably repeating: Why am I doing this? Are you sure? This is what you want?

And that I still don't have the answers.

I don't want things to change. It was provocation that produced that particular reaction before.

*

I din like the play. Neither did he. Cue for imminent disaster.

*

Anyway, it was a pretty safe kind of hanging out, all in all. We went to Smith Street, Chinatown for dinner. We have established our staples recently ie a stable repertoire of things we always order when eating at these authentic and dingy places.

So, my companion ordered two plates of wanton/charsiew noodles and a large bowl of fish soup, both of which he claimed are very good. Dessert was the tangyuan in ginger soup and upon my request, black sesame paste as well.

Boring, I know.

But what's interesting was how we share.

We had each our individual plate of mee. And okay, we drank the fish soup directly from the original bowl, ie two spoons in bowl, which is how we Chinese eat as a community (many spoons in source). Still acceptable, I trust.

We also planned to order one bowl of tangyuan ginger soup (the agreement is he'd eat more tangyuan and I'd have more of the soup, which we are only too very happy to) and one bowl of black sesame paste to share.

Thing is, he bought the tangyuan ginger soup first and told me to have some first, while he zipped off to buy the paste. I looked at him quizzically because the tangyuan ginger soup only had one spoon.

He returned to announce the paste has been sold out.

Now, I had been drinking a bit of the ginger soup with that one spoon and that was like the only dish we had left on the table.

There's still a lot of ginger soup left and five black sesame tangyuan-s untouched.

And just, one spoon.

Instinctively (and politely), I nudged the bowl to him.

In all seriousness, I had expected he'd get another spoon. But he didn't. Just coolly gulped down three tangyuan-s and nudged the bowl back.

I took more ginger soup. Aren't you gonna have the soup too? And he did.

I took a tangyuan and said he can have the another. And he did, and had more soup.

And it pretty much went this way, for the rest of it.

Just. One. Spoon.

*

I wouldn't have thought much about this, except Shimin who came to knew of this said it was so gross and unhygienic.

Well. 'Cos I know he's disease-free?

But now that she brought it up, come to think of it, it's kinda odd huh. Except i'm not too concerned, since it's him. Had it been someone else, even someone close, I just might have voluntarily taken another spoon.

*

The best thing about enduring one day with him? I can last an average of 6 weeks well and good through work, through life, without him, simply by tormenting myself like this. After seeing him, I never want to see him again, till a prolonged safe and lull period has come to be, and I get all restless and edgy and get amnesia, forgetting how terrible it can always be, and cave in to cravings of a crazy kind.

*

I hope things are stable now, in the stagnant way. I want to stay here.