Diary (for The Writer's Tower, June 2014, Theme : Mirror)

A good friend just broke up and she was crying hysterically. I hugged and patted her for quite some time before she calmed down.

A French guy aged 27 fell in love with a Malaysia girl aged 40.

No, these two events are in no way related to each other. I just happen to have a weird train of thought.

Love is a funny thing no?


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Title : Diary
For The Writer's Tower, June 2014, theme : Mirror.

18th February 2008

As usual we did not follow our colleagues for lunch. They loved going to The Ship; something temporary staff like us could not afford.

We were talking about the boys (or girls, in Jack's case) who had chased us. Carina told us about the boys who chased her; some boys even followed her home.

"Interesting stories from Carina," I said when we took the escalator back to office.

"I don't understand why so many boys would chase her," Jack replied.

"Because she's pretty I guess?"

"I don't think she is. You are prettier. Much prettier."

That night I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a very long time, smiling so widely that my face almost cracked.

21st February 2008

Standing in front of the mirror, I tried very hard to put mascara. I wanted to look perfect for our first date.

It was my fifth attempt but I still looked like I had spider legs clumped together on my lashes.

Jack was quite metrosexual and he knew more about fashion and makeup than me.

Wiping it off I tried again. I won't give up.

22nd March 2008

I walked towards the bookstore alone, face still red. His manly taste lingered on my lips.

That was my first French kiss. My first French kiss. My first French kiss.

We were in his car camwhoring. When he showed me the pictures we took he accidentally showed me a picture of him and his ex.

Maybe I was jealous. Maybe he was guilty. He hastily deleted the picture and then we...

It was rude to open your eyes when you were French kissing but I couldn't help it. I opened my eyes and saw him kissing me passionately in the mirror.

There was nothing to do except reciprocating.

His arms were on my waist and then they moved upwards.

My mind went blank completely. Should I stop him? We were doing this in his car. In an open car park. Anyone can see us.

Perhaps reading my mind, he withdrew his hands and stop kissing - rather abruptly and there was something in his demeanour that suggested he was pissed.

"My parents are overseas. We can have the whole house to ourselves," he suggested.

"I - I need to get something from the bookstore," I didn't know what I was saying, but I knew I had to say something. "See you!"

Got out of his car before he could say anything and walked away as fast as I could.

1st April 2008

A new girl called Orange joined our department. Rumours spread fast in office and soon everyone knew she was the kind of slut who would sleep with anyone with a dick.

Not sure if I was being paranoid but I felt neglected.

While touching up with my compact powder I caught a glimpse of him guiding Orange with her new job.

Not sure if my eyes were deceiving me but his arms seemed to be touching her breasts.

And it looked like it was accidental on purpose.

5th May 2008

Standing in front of the full length mirror naked, I hated everything I saw.

Flabby tummy. Panda eyes. Dull skin. Small breasts. Thick thighs. Puffy eyes.

You are fat and ugly, I told myself. You sucks. You deserve to be dumped.

Woke up four times in the middle of the night without alarm. Each time I would be playing Sean Kingston's Beautiful Girl and cried while listening.

That was our song. Then it became their song.

He promised I would never experience the pain of breaking up. He promised I would never have an ex-boyfriend. He promised we would be celebrating birthdays and anniversary till the day I die.

I threw away all the folded and torn receipts in my handbag. He loves paper planes and he taught me a method of folding paper plane that somersaults halfway flying.

Gone were the days when he patiently taught me which part of the receipt I had to tear to achieve the desired flying result, I thought bitterly, tears falling down uncontrollably again.

18th February 2014

"You are not perfect," Zac says. I pretend to be angry. "But that's what makes you perfect."

Zac and I, we have been together for six years and still counting. He is much shorter than me, a little plump and wearing nerdy glasses. No one in their right mind will consider him handsome.

But he is such a fun guy to be with. He is romantic, humorous, full of surprises but most importantly, he is loyal.

Being a religious Christian, he also believes that we should not have sex before marriage.

Six years and his love for me had not changed since the day he asked me to be his girlfriend.

"Let's take a selfie," he says suddenly, after I finish my durian cream puff. He hates the smell of durian but he never stop me from eating durian.

Unlike some other guy I know, Zac respects me.

"I thought you hate selfie," I laugh. He thinks duckface is the dumbest thing in the world.

"Not when you are involved."

I take out my mirror to tidy up myself. Just tidying the hair as I don't have any makeup on. Zac thinks I'm beautiful without any makeup on.

My reflection looks happy.