~**~
It's no fun packing up the detrius of my entire adult life. The junk in the garage is musty and dusty, the kitchen-stuff is greasy and grimy, and almost everything has an occasion and the reminder of a friend attached to it. But with coffee in my favourite mug, my laptop playing my favourite mp3s and a stack of cardboard boxes, I wade into the work. The boxes fill up rapidly and so do the trash bags. The music from my laptop keeps me company. Working on autopilot, I sing along softly. The familliar opening chords of a song I know by heart comes on and my hands still while my brain kicks into gear. Places and people and snatched phrases float into my mind.
~**~
15 years old, in love for the first time and desperate to be kissed.
...Thank God I found you..The chill of the Shanghainese night air, the bright lights of the Bund and the romance of the waterside.
...I was lost without you..Playing cards in his hotel room with his sister and the tour guide, bright eyes and shy glances.
...My every wish and every dream somehow became reality...Midnight conversations over the phone, weaving bonds and futures with words.
...You brought the sunlight...New Year's Eve 1999, countdown to the millennium, no longer unkissed.
...Completed my whole life...
Ultimatum from my parents; "No. You are too young. End it and end it now."
...I'm overwhelmed with gratitude...Defiance, deception, sacrifice. Learning that love does not conquer all. Heartbreak.
...'Cos baby I'm so thankful I found you...Building a lasting friendship from the ashes of a love affair, learning to let go.
~**~
16 years old, still young but wiser, attracted but unsure.
...I was only thinking of you...Bringing snacks when I was hungry, shoulder rubs when I was tired, walking me home when night fell.
...Hoping you were thinking of me...Calls in the evening, leisurely chats, singing for my ears alone.
...Two hearts beating just like one against the world...The soothing velvet of his voice, the delicateness of his features.
...Baby I am always dreaming of you...An empty room, him patiently wating for me to gather my things, the sudden claiming of my lips.
...Hoping you are dreaming of me...Confused, skittish, uncomfortable with the casual possessiveness, the way the position was assumed without the words ever being said.
...I could never live one day without your love...Growing unease, harsh words, slamming down the phone. Guilt, but also relief.
~**~
17 years old, on the brink of adulthood, more lessons to learn.
There is no music.
It is impossible to help someone who doesn't want to be helped.
There is only so much you can give, for so long.
Never return out of pity or guilt. The reasons you left the first time round are still there.
When the thought of him calls forth dread instead of a smile, it was over long ago.
~**~
19 years old, tired of love, exulting in the freedom.
And love comes when you least expect it.
The song?
Why, it's still a work in progress...
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