Letters number one hundred and twenty nine: The days go on

Dearest J,

Two days ago, I finally packed your two pairs of pants away - the two pairs that have been hanging on the back of the master room door...since 2010.  Of course they were left hanging there intentionally, since you last left them there.  One blue jeans and one black working pants, a bit faded and one can't tell if it's really black or if it's brown.

Can't put a name to this behaviour - deliberately not packing away 100% of your belongings here.  Is it a secret desire, a secret wish that having your things around will make the memories of you linger longer?

What really happens is that I keep living, and moving forward with my life...but every time I start to clean up your things little by little - the moment I confront my decision to move the items away from its existing position, I am plunged straight to the hollowness and poignancy of the state of things: you  were here before.

I also finally clean out your bedside drawer, the tiny drawer on your side - what used to be your side of the bed.  I took my time before I picked out each and every piece of old receipts, used tissues, unused tissues, name cards, folded notes and what not - and placed them gently into a plastic bag, to be thrown away.  I found a 1 Ringgit note stuck in between a receipt.  These were the contents of your pockets then.  Your habit of emptying your pockets into this little drawer.

Clearing this drawer was a little more painful than the two pants - I checked the pockets of the pants, nothing left.

This home is a little cleaner and neater now, despite it being older now.  There are cracks on the cheap bathroom basin cabinets, the pale green kitchen blind is now stained with the years.

I really dig cleaning the flat, bit by bit, corner by corner, room to room.  Decluttering it slowly makes me feel "ready" for anything ahead.

Will I ever be fully ready for all that's to come? Will I have the courage to make things, people come to me?

Don't know, just live from day to day...

No complaints.

Forever,

B

Food over sex

So I sat down in front of my living room window and stared at the 1230am traffic on Jalan Ipoh, 21 floors below...with a freshly toasted bran bread spread with my most delicious latest find in the supermarket - homemade honey and almond butter spread.

As I took my last few bites while purring with utmost satisfaction...a small voice inside my head uttered, "Oh my gawd I think I prefer this than having a man making love to me."

.....

Gosh, is that me talking?" ....then I stopped in my track and tried to analyse my feeling and that voice.

"Is it really so?"

Well, for one - if you buy the right peanut butter and check its expiry date and have a toaster that works and a piece of fine bread - you can always guarantee your orga...foodgasm.

Yea, it's easier.  Satisfaction always guaranteed.  With sex with another person, so many other factors at play.  So, Many.

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