Blast From the Past - II

This post is damn long in the making.

2 things spurred this on. A post from Sasky stirred a part of the memory banks I haven't accessed for a long time. Then a chance encounter with an ex just yesterday at the Funan Centre Food Court.

And I have kept the makings of this post in my head for near half a month. Damn...

Sasky's post reminded me of a gal I once knew, and though she wasn't the first gal I have ever loved, but she was significant in so many other ways.

• She's the reason I first discovered Mambo.
• She's the first gal I have ever kissed.
• She's why "Summer Rain" by Belinda Carlisle would always be a special song to me.
• She is the first of very very few people that made me so pissed that I actually turned around, and walked away without saying anything.
• She was also the one that introduced me to the harsh realities that good boys very often don't win, and that women don't always say what they want. And what they do say what they want, they may not mean it.
• She also taught me, invariably, that breaking up is not the worst thing to do. Keeping someone on a yo-yo, as a safety net, is. As a result, I made myself a promise that I will never do the same thing to another person.
• No she never was, for even an instant, my girlfriend, though for the longest time, to me, there was nobody else but her.

Is it too personal to put up here? Maybe. My boys from me army days know all about her. Other than the usual army stories from old times, we do occasionally bring up old flames, and her name will invariably pop up.

I reckon it was a really painful period in life, but hey, with my thick skull, some lessons need to be hammered in with a big ass sledgehammer. In the aspect of relationships, I reckon there are very few hammers in my years on this earth, that has so much impact as a ponytail handled, foundation tinted one called Pat.

For me, each gal that I have loved, whether they became my gfs, or not, are special in a certain way. And I reckon that each one of them holds a piece of my heart. So yesterday in the food court, there was still a jolt, when I saw her.

Nah, I didn't call out to her, or acknowledge her. But it is good to see she's doing well, and that nothing much really changed. Same old purple funky glasses (or is it red?) and purple shawl. I wonder if she remembers that she's still holding onto my entire collection of dance CDs.

The funny thing is, even with these pieces given away, my heart is not any smaller, or any LESS than when it first begun. Different maybe, but definitely never any less.

Strange thing with the heart isn't it? Guess conservation of matter don't apply to EVERYTHING in the universe.