The heart is restless. So is the mind.
Thursday has just begun. It’s been just over 28 hours since I kissed her goodbye. It was a whirlwind 48 hours before that: us zooming around the Klang Valley, trying to meet as many people as possible and do as many things as possible and get as many errands done. We walked around and drove around, holding hands and intertwining fingers as long and as often as we could. It was never enough. It’s always like that: never enough. Just wanting a little bit more.
Ah, so this is what an addiction is.
She came here on Monday, for a workshop at UTM. Just two days; arrived on Monday, the workshop’s on Tuesday morning and she went back at 10 p.m the same day. On Monday, I waited for her at KL Sentral. Left home when my dad went to work at 6:30 a.m, and I was at KL Sentral by 8:30 a.m. Her flight took off from Kota Kinabalu at 9:15 a.m. I was supposed to be working on my documentary research while waiting for her call.
That was one of the longest waits of my life. I couldn’t really do much except idly browse websites and correspond to tweets, all the while wishing that time would move just a wee bit faster. The tables around me filled up and emptied with different groups of people, and I patiently waited until I got the message: “Ish here!” That was at 2:10 p.m.
She could never afford to be away from home for more than 3 days at a time. Anymore and she starts to get worried about her father back home. It’s painful, to see her torn like this. Wanting to be here together with me, yet never being able to leave her father unattended for too long. It’s one of the reasons why I’m sometimes in awe of her. She says she’s just a normal person, but she’s actually one of the strongest person I know. Her thoughts and opinions and worries gives me perspective. They make me realize that it’s not really as bad or as serious as I think it is.
The one good thing about having such a short time to be together, is that every moment you have really is that important and precious. Each moment automatically becomes that perfect one, so there’s no need for planning or the desire to spend large amounts of money or whatnot. Long conversations about nothing in particular were simultaneously intimate and funny and wonderful. All the worries and doubts about this long-distance relationships of ours disappeared immediately, replaced with the here and now. Nothing else matters, and that’s just how it is.
I would catch her having that worried look on her face from time to time, thinking about one of the many things waiting for her back home. All I could do at those times was give her hands a reassuring squeeze, or stroke her cheeks or give her a soft kiss. I hope they helped, even if just for a while.
The last time I met her before this was three months ago, for a total of four days. Even during those four days, she was working. She had to rush over to meet me during those moments in between classes and then rush back to college. I felt so guilty for forcing her to do this. I still do. It’s not fair for her to have so many responsibilities.
I honestly don’t know when I’ll be seeing her next. Nothing is planned, and nothing can be confirmed. The “efficiency” of her college administration means that the teaching staff never know for sure when they’ll be teaching, how many subjects they’ll be teaching, or when they’ll have breaks.
Or if they’ll even have classrooms to teach in.
I miss her already. I know we’ll meet again, so I’m not going to waste time moping around contemplating suicide. We both have things to do and goals to achieve. The one thing we promised each other, is to never let go of our goals. We reiterated that promise on Tuesday, amidst mouthfuls of cheesecake that I miraculously managed to make two days earlier. It felt good, to know that we both thought along similar lines. The focus and the priority is there. So there’s that to tide us over till next we meet.
But I really do fucking miss her.