The Schoolgirl

The girls at Weini's wedding dinner on 1st Nov @Grand Hyatt. The one beside me was my first best friend and we have known each for two decades! Looking at this picture, it's hard to believe the four of us were primary school-ers once and were in the same class for three years (before I left for my second primary school). *gulps* We have obviously aged.

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Speaking of schoolgirls, please allow me to entertain (and jinx) a schoolgirl crush.

I remember when I was an adolescent, crushes were crushes, period. Having a crush on someone then simply meant one big, fat, happy reason to go to school, to sit in the same classroom, breathe in the same air, to talk and tease and, nothing more. I didn’t want (need) to be a girlfriend to somebody and boyfriends were an alien concept. I just want to like somebody and bask in that feeling. There never was any agonizing of whether the crush liked me in return (sorry, it’s given, how can anyone not like me is beyond comprehension). So yeah, it was a self-gratifying emotional high, very much self-masturbatory in nature but as long as I’m happy. It was all too easy to be happy. Nothing too deep, or profound: I was damn happy to go to school everyday at the prospect of bumping and interacting with The Crush can. Of turning into a corner and realizing he’s there, perhaps hiding in waiting for me! Oh, the possibilities without fretting over reality because there was no Reality. I don’t need a future, a name, much less commitment and a sense of belonging. It warmed me enough to know that the crush was attainable and sorta like me in the way I sorta like him, and that was as far it needed to go for my sense of well-being.

I think I may just have found a bigger, fatter, happier reason to go to work.

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He was listening to The Songs when I barged in and I was secretly pleased when he started humming His Songs subsequently and sporadically at the weirdest timings when I’m around.

When my intern visited him, he started chanting His Name, which he must have known at some point, such madness will be told to me. Was that the intent: to reflect an obsession?

I left an unintended mark on the mac and now every time he does his work, he will be tragically reminded of me but he seems happy enough about the scarring, that this is something (or rather, the screen is) he looked at more than anything, or so, he said.

When he confessed he neither drinks nor smokes, I put on a look of sheer horror and declared he should clean up his image, for he sure looks like someone who does for someone who doesn’t.

Talking to my another guy friend in the room next to his, he came in, stood there and watched us for awhile (pervert!).

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It’s fun to act in genuine bad faith, to know that the schoolgirl crush is just a long corridor away, and that his eyes light up upon seeing you.

Nevermind that he is so not my type. He is less than 1.7m, wiry, looks like he belongs in a 蛊惑仔 movie or at ease selling durians, that sort of thing. Besides, I know he has a girlfriend.

Who cares, when I have a big, fat, happy reason to go to work.

Not like I faint, every time we touch
It's just, some little thing, a crush
Not like every thing I do
Depends on you

So let it be, what it'll be, don't make a fuss
And go crazy over you and me
Here's what I'll do, I'll play the wuss
Not like we have a date with destiny