And though I know I shouldn’t, against my better judgement I looked her up on Facebook.
Ah, a stewardess. Of course.
Funny how you used to tell me that you would never date one because you thought them to to be shallow, materialistic. That you wanted someone who cooks and clean, waits for you at home.
I wonder what she did to make you change your mind.
She is pretty. All cheeks and teeth arranged in a generous smile. She seemed fun, like someone who would put on make up and take the time to dress up when you two go on dates. Religious as well, from the way she peppers every profile picture with a Biblical quote.
I gathered all that I know and don’t know about her and try to arrange these pathetic pieces into the reason why you fell for her, of why you chose her over me.
What has she got that I don’t?
So I stand in front of the mirror grabbing this, pinching that. Tried to measure all that I lack. I scrutinise every flaw, catalog my shortcomings.
I wonder why you would rather try with someone else than try again with me.
I wonder if you were as proud of her as you were of me, did you introduce her to your friends or bring her home to meet your mum? I wonder if you took her to the same church, promised her the same things.
And I wonder if I should…
Should I tell her of your love for bak kut teh and road trips, should I send her the playlist of all our favourite songs?
Should I tell her about how you can’t swim or the story behind that tattoo?
Should I tell her how gentle you are, how sometimes you touch me as if I was made of paper; and other times you were a drowning man and I was your last breath of air?
Should I tell her how cruel you were, the day you walked away without a reason why?
But I shouldn’t.
For you are no longer the man I fell in love with. I am no longer the same girl whose heart you broke.
I may have known you as well as the back of my hand before, but you’re a stranger now.
His arms wraps around me, enveloping me all at once and breaking my reverie.
What are you doing up so late?
I look in the mirror, at how I fit just right beneath his chin, how my shoulders comes just close enough for his lips to graze; reminded of the dinner we made together, the easy conversations while doing the dishes, hands covered in suds.
I look in the mirror, at my present and possibly my future and saw how selfish I was – to have something so great in front of me and yet I keep looking back at what could have been.
Come back to bed.
I logged out of Facebook, turned off my computer
and leave the past and you behind
I wish you both all the happiness in the world.