Girl and City

Otherwise known as “The One Where SG Replays Her Saddest Moments.”

You know in that episode of Friends before Ross gets married, where Rachel is debating whether she should go to his wedding, and she has the flashback of their long and tumultuous but memorable relationship?

No, you’re thinking, I don’t know what this girl is talking about and I frankly don’t care! Will she stop it with the Friends references already?

But I don’t care what you think because this is my blog and here, I reign supreme.

So anyways, as I was saying.
Well, I’ve decided to write a “cast” list for my life, and when it came to MFL, I was suddenly unsure what to write. Now, I realize I haven’t mentioned him since March (yes I’ve been counting), so for those of you who are new here, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about (by the way, welcome to my life, have a cup of coffee, sit down and enjoy because you are going to feel loads better about yourself after you hear my stories). For the record, no, MFL does not stand for Midget Football League. It stands for My First Love, also known as The Big Boyfriend (not big in that way you sick, sick children), who was a major character in my life and well, my first love (duh). Obviously, we are no longer together, otherwise I wouldn’t be talking about him as if he was dead (which he’s not, but he might as well be because he’s alive, breathing, and dating some other chick).

The reason I haven’t mentioned him in the last month is because I kind of decided after my series of ridiculously melodramatic entries that I was going to stop tormenting myself and cut him out of thoughts. Which was sort of successful until I started re-watching Friends and then heard the Lobster reference and then wondered whether I’d let go of my Lobster. It also helped that I had a couple of boytoys to keep me distracted. But now the boytoys are gone and I’m sitting around watching Friends and eating chocolate and ice cream. And not that low-fat/soy/yogurt stuff either. The Real Thing!
But don’t worry, I’m still in shape. Round is a shape !

So anyway, instead of re-iterating the whole love story and its aftermath, I’m going to have my very own little “flashback episode.” Ooh. Aah.
(more…)

I don’t usually take much notice of old couples. Well, let’s be honest, I don’t usually take much notice of old people in general. It’s nothing prejudicial, it’s just that I don’t have much in common with them except that we’re all homo sapiens sapiens, and I’m not going to apologize for finding H. s. sapiens closer to my age more interesting.

But today, as I was walking to the grocery store, I noticed a couple walking in the opposite direction. They were probably in their early 60s, so they were still quite robust. He was wearing a yellow and gray ski jacket, she was wearing a red parka. They looked like they belonged on “What Not To Wear.”

But that’s not what struck me about them. They were walking side by side, holding hands, matching each other’s strides.
And it made me think of Phoebe’s line from Friends: “He’s her lobster!”

According to Phoebe, lobsters find a mate for life, and when they’re old, they walk around their tank holding claws. While this claim is highly doubtful, it feels like it could be true. Up until a couple years ago, I believed that it was. I thought that if I could just find my Lobster, I would be content for the rest of my life. My Lobster would be there for me, holding my hand tightly, even when I started looking more and more like a corpse.

Then, life happened. Destroyed my only pair of rose-tinted glasses. I haven’t been the same since. I’m no longer a loyal advocate of the True Love theory. I don’t even know if I believe in happy endings anymore. And quite frankly, I don’t like seafood.

But today, I saw two lobsters holding each other’s claws, walking side by side towards their future, come what may. And a piece of my heart fell back into place.

The first boy to ever profess his love for me was in kindergarten. He stood under my building every morning and yelled my name until I came down. This was, according to my parents, normal in our neighbourhood. We’d walk to school together hand in hand, he’d share his favourite hiding spots with me, and bring me the best rocks he could find. In class, when the teacher asked for volunteers, he’d always grab my hand and throw it in the air, and glared at anyone else who wanted to volunteer. He saved me his favourite part of his lunch, because he knew I hated the school lunch.

And then I moved to Canada, and I left him and his rocks behind.

(more…)

I was in love once.
For 15 months.

The incredible thing is that he loved me too.
Crazy, right? I know.

So why did I break his heart?

Sometimes I look back on it and wonder if I did the right thing. Being with him was the happiest time of my life. He understood me in ways that I never expected anyone could. Literally, he would say a sentence with the exact same words that are about to come out of my mouth. When we first met and barely knew each other, our friends would always joke that we were like long-lost twins, because we always said the exact same thing at the same time, and then there would be a silence where we’d look at each other and everyone would burst into giggles.

He knew me so well. He was always there for me and he always knew just what I needed. He’d bring me food on days when I’m particularly stressed; he’d leave things in my locker to cheer me up – especially if we couldn’t see each other that day; all this unprompted. I never knew how he knew which days I needed his support the most, but somehow, he knew.
True love or psychic?

Sometimes I thought he might be my soul mate. But I never told him that. Just like I never told him I loved him.
I still remember the first time he said those three words. And I kind of just… froze. I never expected to hear him say that to me out of nowhere. He’s not the kind of guy to make the first move. I always felt like I was the man in the relationship in that way.

But that day, he said “I love you.”

No ifs, buts, or whens. Just, “I love you.”
(more…)

You know how every girl has at least one story about a boy who was a complete stranger but was memorable somehow? The Boy on the Subway. The Boy in the Coffee Shop. Well, this is mine about The Boy on the Bus.

It being Saturday, I decided that I deserved to indulge in a bit of shopping – despite it being exam time and all (I mean, why should we sacrifice our lifestyle habits just because of silly little things like exams?). So I headed to the nearest “mall” in search of some healthy snacks to combat those late night munchies.
Anyway, I was almost late for the bus as I came out of residence but managed to just catch it after running half a block. Then, after I finished shopping and was just coming out of the mall, I saw my bus passing by on the road. And, seeing as how I had already wasted time shopping and I didn’t want to waste more time waiting for the next bus, I decided to run after the bus again. Groceries in hand and all. It was not my most graceful moment.
But, I did make it. And I was very pleased with myself, even though I must’ve looked extremely foolish running an entire parking lot and a block to catch the bus with God knows what rattling in my backpack and bags of groceries in my hands.

As I sat down, I laughed in spite of myself for being the silly girl who seems to always have to run for buses. I mean, this was the second time today and about the zillionth time in my lifetime. Am I lucky for often being able to catch the bus or unfortunate because I always have to run after it?

In my mind, a commercial was playing with the dorky high school kid running after the bus each morning and all the kids inside are inwardly laughing at this sad little fellow because the bus driver is a nasty old man who hasn’t had sex in a century and therefore won’t stop to let the poor kid on.
Actually, I’m not sure if there is a commercial like that, but that’s not the point. The point is, I felt supremely silly, and almost a little bit cursed. (more…)