This time, the it illustrates the moment of meeting from online to offline.
——————–
It usually begins like this.
You send me a heart. I returned you one.
This might go on for a few nights.
Then someone breaks the chain – an email.
A few lines of customary introduction. It might spark something.
More mails, they get longer. Then we jumped onto MSN.
Chats late into the night. Then we moved to the phone.
I like your voice. You like mine too. The first electric tinge.
We talked more, later into the night. Topics range from plain banality and silliness to heavy existentialist stuff (if we ever permit) Pancakes and Eskimos to Tsai Ming Liang. We might talk about sex and the proverbial ‘position’ we categorized ourselves.
Late into the night. I got you hard. You make me hard. We arranged to meet, finally.
Dinner, movies and coffee – what else is there to do here?
Otherwise, straight to the bed. Diving for your cock.
And no, we weren’t even drunk.
Let us rewind. First encounter. Our eyes met. Fumbling of phones to confirm identity. Awkward but usually friendly (sometimes over-friendly) hellos.
You are in 3-dimensional for the first time!
So this is how you dress/walk/move/talk/smell/behave (or I imagine how you would kiss/suck/fuck)
You become layers of thick fog in winter, Disappearing and appearing in front of me, Fading in and out of frame – All your little gestures and characteristics.
Certain things of you eluded me. Certain things pull me further in, deeper down.
Fast forward. Post – dinner
1. If lethargy sets in, this is good-bye.
“So, how are you going back?” ( it’s only 9pm)
“ok, I will ‘see’ you online. Take care” (cyberspace has become our best refuge and most elegant escape route)
We parted, usually walking in different directions to different modes of transport,
With a slight tinge of vacuous indifference in my heart.
2. If mutuality sets in, more talk.
We wandered around this soulless city, Searching for topics of interest, sparks of the occasional fireworks.
“Christmas trees that dance are scary.”
“yeah. heh.”
Beneath the lighted trees, Our own trepidation dances with them. We finally settle ourselves down, and over coffee and cigarettes, We open up more of our identities, selves and souls. I want to see more of you. I want to know you better. You want to see more of me.
3. If sexuality sets in, we become jittery, Eyes shifting, smiles awkward. Signals can get confusingly obscure and mixed-up. Are you horny or just flustered? Why are you wearing that tight tee shirt? Why do you keep touching yourself in a strange way? (hindsight : its probably a come on) We both seek the devilish glint in our shy brown eyes. I cruised your body down to your cock. I want to make it throb. You placed your warm hands on the back of my neck. Electric shocks. Followed by a hard-on. We wandered around this soulless city, Scouring for a place to make out.
Fast forward. 2. Post – meaningful coffee talk / 3. Post – Copulation -Lying on the bed, our limbs locking, / Our feet nearly touching under the table,
-I discovered that YOU might be my ex’s present lover’s Tuesday’s fuck buddy!
CUE. “what a wonderful world” EXT. NIGHT.
Fake snow pouring down along Orchard road, Kids shouting at swaying Christmas trees.
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