...erom on..ti tuoba gnitirw eb ot gniog neve ton m'I .eormyna nmad ginkcuf a evig yllaer t'noD .dias evah dluow ylbaborp I "!?won ti gniddehs dniM !ereht tog uoy edaçaf ecin, yeH" .sselhceeps m'I dnA. .emoc dluow ytilauqnart ebyam dna llaw a hguorht tisf ym tup dluoc I hsiw I. struhs sredluohs ym, struh daeh yM. taht tsuj gniod ma I ereh teY .sraey retfa sraey niaga revo dna revo tihs emas eht hguorht og nac eno kniht t'nod I .regna dna eugitaf htiw demlehwrevo dna detelped, derit m'I

5 minutes before I started out on this blog, I was watching one of Ghost Whisperer's rerun on cable called "Mended Hearts" . Tonight's episode was about this trialthon guy, Conor Donovan who got into an accident in one of his races and died and he stayed on because he couldn't leave his fianceé, Gwen Alexander behind and Gwen had refused to move on either. Conor was an organ donor in the episode and the other thing that was holding him back from crossing over and into the light was that he wanted to make sure that whoever got his heart was worthy of it and he was taking care of it, the way he did i guess. That guy was Cliff Aimes who eventually kinda became Conor in his own way.

I became an organ donor a week ago. It was one of those things that came naturally and part of my list, so to speak before I die or after, I can't decide. Donating blood every 3 months used to be part of that list but I got sicker or something and the nice people at the blood bank wouldn't take my blood even when I pleaded on my knees. But anyway, the organ donor thing, that was mandatory. As soon as you turn 21, the ministry of health i think would send you this letter, asking if you would go with the flow and with them or if you wanna refuse the chance to save 6 strangers with whatever organs that you know you wouldn't need no more when you're gone. That was pretty much it. I was kinda excited about it cause you know, part of my list. And I did it, said yes, and got the card and name on the register a week ago. And one of the organs I would be donating would be my heart.

I often wonder what lies in front of me. Was it going to be more loneliness, more loss or would I, by God's grace, meet someone new and have my own Happily Ever After. For the longest time, I was convinced that when something good and wonderful happens, something bad follows right after. It's like someone's out there and he's jealous of you and he wouldn't let you be happy for long. So if I do get to meet someone, I might not really get that Happily Ever After ending I wanted because it's just the way it is.

When I die, I would be giving my heart away to someone too...like Conor did in the episode. And Cliff, the guy who got the transplant, he sort of inherited certain traits and memories of Conor. Like he smelt the same sweet Gardenia fragrance Gwen was wearing or he got cravings of food he never would have eaten before the surgery and he does things that were very Conor. He would make everyone's job much easier if he could, and each time he and Gwen were in a restaurant and they were eating bread, and there would be breadcrumbs on the table, Conor would sweep it up into his palm and hold them until he could throw them away. After the transplant, Cliff did the exact same things. And guys, it's very thought-provoking to me, considering I could be very well be giving my heart away to some stranger tomorrow...

It's a very intriguing thought...ok I know it's tv and some guy wrote it but still...I wonder. If the person who got my heart would somehow be sharing the same memories and traits that were distinctive and once me. If he/she cries as easily about virtually everything that's worth, if he/she loves and enjoys the same things I did...if he/she remembers certain things that I've been through and seen when I was alive. It would have been very interesting.

I'm dying. Just like everyone in the world is. Everyone starts to cherish what they have more, perhaps started a long string of letters for the people they love to tell me them exactly. Or opted out on some thrilling ride, or the next bungee jump. I'm not sure if I've told anyone I loved them nor was I certain if I spent enough time with anyone or if I've done enough for them. A friend told me a night ago what she would have done if she knew she was going to die. She would go around and tell anyone and everyone who ever knew her, especially her family that she loves them and she wants them to take care of themselves...Frankly, I don't know what I would have done, if I know I would die in say, a month.

I would probably just be spending the month alone, and doing things that I like. I remembered telling Eva to take care of herself if I were to die and I couldn't be there for her anymore. And that I only asked that she would think of me and the times we had once in a good while. She was really mad at me when I said that. She wanted me to not think about stuff like that and stay positive and all that. She wanted me alive, at least until the day we would meet in person. I'm not sure. If things are the way they are in the show, I would probably be staying around and by the side of my loved one(s) for as long as I possibly can after I die...just to make sure they're all right and only for selfish reasons...

"Sometimes I wonder who's holding back who..."

Evanescence - My Immortal
J-five - Find A Way
Jojo - Never Say Goodbye
Shawn Colvin - Sunny Came Home

Sometimes, it's hard. It takes a good amount of time and practices and moments when you can't just take things face value. And there are times you wouldn't believe that things are the way they are. First Impressions, Perception and Judgement. How much exactly can you buy it and how much of it merely a beautifully orchestrated façade? Nobody knows and nobody cares, well not unless they have to. But at least a couple of that many million people have learnt not to take first impressions as some sort of a hellish benchmark, condemning some poor soul to purgatory with a single glance.

Some people think I speak funny, the oddball and everyone else thinks they don't have it weird. It never bothered me before but something stuck. And just so you know, people, I'm not weird. Various misconceptions yes but weird, no. It was the CCM Freshie's Orientation at Sentosa 28 April, a cherished Saturday, I must add and in a fit of insanity and probably fuelled by false enthusiasm last couple of weeks ago, I agree to wake up at 6 a.m. to volunteer my service as the new kids' leader after a week of hell in the culinary practice (Re: previous entry about the new semester). I couldn't sleep the night before for I was with Mel, yes, staying over after school even for a couple of hours and I cherished every waking moment I had with her, even if it means just looking and watching her and whether she realizes or acknowledges that at all. But anyway, this thing with Mel was but routine. Everyone's like super preoccupied with everything else but the one person/thing that's right in their face, craving for some kind of attention andacknowledge silently. Whenever she's with me, she'll spend hours talking or SMSing or rather listening to some other people talk about stuff she doesn't necessarily have to know. She would rather do that than give me a couple of minutes of geniune attention and interest. Or maybe it's just me. I'm contented just by looking at her and watches as her expression changes...never the best conversation holder in any case.

ok, this would probably be one of those rather self-centered entries where i'll look back in a couple weeks' time and think 'god, is that really how i felt then?' I have to write them though because right this moment, it is how i feel and felt. What's with not knowing and cherishing and acknowledging people and things that you have and then losing them and then the desire of having them again? This is human nature, a newborn could tell you that but that doesn't mean we can't change it.

I have friends, more than just a couple, safe to say and friends needed me as I would them. And I cherish, or at least try to cherish each and every one of them, giving them the day of time, the attention, the affection and whatever it is I could possibly offer in that moment. And while acknowledgement and motivation would have been nice, I don't usually get that and it frustrates and tires me out. And I wish I could do something about it, not to make it an issue and move on.

This is me, as honest as I try to be, as giving as I wanna be and then it came the time where I also wanted things, gratification from friends and other people. And most of the time I wouldn't get it and I'll be so disappointed and at times angry albiet a quick recovery and dismissal of whatever thought. I became all me and giving and waiting 2 hours for someone who hardly care again. And the same routine continues. I don't know what to do to minimize the pain of hitting raw concrete pavement from a few thousand feet up over and over again. Ash here's really tired of the same old tune. "Sing me another one, will ya, love," I would say if I could.

We could do a review, namely family & ex-crushes-turned-best friends and friends in general...If I ever write about it, it would be called 'the encyclopedia of self-centeredness, guilt, poor time management and abandonment' and I don't think anyone wants me to go that far..

Anyway, on a lighter note, there is this writer/mentorship scheme thing where an aspiring writer with a decent portfolio of whatever works gets to work with a published writer/mentor for 18 months via email or face to face meeting and see how far it'll take him/her in the literary world. The thing is, I ain't got no portfolio or works to show, much less impress anyone with. The computer crashed a couple of months earlier and I ran out of brain and creative juices blah blah..it's bad but I'm still giving some thought. I mean, what if cooking doesn't work out for me?

Talking about cooking (see, thats a smooth one I was doing), I slit my vein in my left index finger with a smooth slide of my chef knife while I was washin' it with a thin sponge and no brain. I was poaching salmon then and thank god, most of the work was done then. Needless to say, the red copperish liquid was a'flowing in an abundance. (the folks at the blood bank probably hates me now) The wound would probably have required stitching right there and then but like I said, I'm in the middle of my kitchen practical and no one would ever thought of bailing out in the middle of it for stitches. So I didn't.

I went through hell of course, excruciating pain with the washing and alcohol and bandaging and then working with only one hand for the rest of the poaching, the other, the hurt other, pointing up to the sky to cease excess bleeding. Everyone was laughing..including Chef Ken..which was amusing as far as my partner's concerned. The older man would go round my station with his index finger pointed upwards...and he sang. Now that's thought provoking. And anyway, I was more than worried..for the practical this afternoon. Who am I to think I could accomplish 2 main entrees and 2 soups and washing in 2 and a half hour with only one working hand? So I bailed and I went to see a doctor. I called Mel, since we are meeting for dinner after school and she wouldn't pick up and when she eventually did, with grumbles and complaints and maybe curses, she was late for an hour. I was kinda pissed and disappointed but not surprised that I had to wait and that she changed her heart and wouldn't accompany me to the hospital because of the queue and her fatigue from staying up till 6 a.m. for some phone conversation she probably can't remember the topics...and she wanted to cancel dinner and wanted me to go home immediately after. I wasn't in the best of mood as the pain becomes more prominent and irritating.

Avril Lavigne - Girlfriend
Anna Nalick - In My Head
Jojo - How to Touch A Girl
Maroon 5 - Makes Me Wonder
Mika - Lollipop
Sarah Mclachlan - Wintersong
Vertical Horizon - Best I Ever Had

29 April 2007

Well, it just didn't feel right. Now it does.

The first week of the new term has come and gone. And god, it was more than merely adjustments but a complete 360 degree change.

My sleeping pattern gradually changed, there was a whole lot of discipline and punctuality and precison and team spirit thrown into the mix that is me, Ashley Tara. All 3 classes were pretty much going through the same shit, a.k.a the Culinary Hell (as aptly dubbed by our wonderful Chef H. ). Everyone's waking 5 a.m. every morning and probably wouldn't get home until late evening just to suffer the onslaught of backaches and cuts and bruises and fatigue that was the after effects of spending 8 hours, racing against time and brain cells in the newly built but yet completed demo theatre and kitchens. Not to mention the numerous bags and stuff we had to carry while struggling up the bus or the train and when it does rain in the morning, it's just really really bad. But also because of that, yes the silver lining of whatever cloud, the 3 classes were more bonded together and it was, to me one of the most important and beautiful thing in trying times to have resulted. Everyone was helpful and understanding and kept that sense of light-ness and humor, knowing whatever they have to go through, that other guy from the other class at that other station they didn't realize previously of their existence is experiencing the same thing too..this is really just human nature, I would say...but beautiful.

The other beautiful thing is that, we've learnt. And we still are.

Stuff about stuff that we didn't previously figure out or knew about cooking and food and mentality towards cooking. And most of them, just kind of common sense. There were 3 chefs flying in from CIA, Culinary Institute of America that is this pretigious and star-studded institute. They were Chef Ken James W., Chef Marc Something Hayman (can't remember the middle name for there isn't much interaction with the great Pastry man/master yet) and lastly, Chef Hinnerk Winhelm Von Bargen. As most people would have already noticed by his last name, Chef H's German and he has worked in many countries, Beijing for example, and he met his wife of almost a decade there and had a beautiful 8 year old daughter. He's this 1.90cm or more guy who I kept visualizing would poke his eyes and forehead against the sharp corners of the plasma tv and the cupboard whenever he would walk too near...Anyway, I've met them, his wife and daughter twice so I know...you know, just in case you're wondering. Chef Ken and Chef Marc on the other hand, are typical native Americans with Chef K possessing more than 30 years of experience in the culinary world. It was a total blast and honor to learn from these chefs who thank God, didn't lose their quirky sense of humor and humanity to the merciless hell of toiling and cooking.

This is how a typical day would go and warning: could be rather stale.

Grooming inspection starts at around 7.50, for by then, anyone who's sane would already have been there, in full U and with whatever that was going through their minds at the time standing in a line. Sometimes, the tutor, Mr. Sarcastic-and-always-missing-the-mark J Sim would come round or Chef Ken, or Ms B Wilson, the other tutor, telling us what we've done correctly so far in the morning or in the kitchen the previous evening or if any, something we might have screwed up that morning. So far we have been great; punctual, perfectly dressed and having done a wonderful beef consomme etc...I guess everyone's pretty much adapted to the routine of waking up before dawn and going home after sunset. For the next couple of hours, there will be a demostration by Chef H, (so far it was him) demostrating what we have to do later in the kitchen. Along the way, questions were thrown between both directions and it was very interesting how inquistive some people are. To better faciliate teaching and interacting, there are 3 cameras and plasma tvs basically showing the demostration so we could really see if the color of the food changes, or if it's boiling or simmering etc...Ms Wilson, she's one messed up person when it comes to operating those cameras, zooming in and out at the exact wrong timing...we could never understand her.

The class of 59, separated into Group A and B with A going into the kitchen and cooking right after whatever they have just sat through and B out for an hour lunch. After lunch, B comes back for the lecture covering topics for the next day before going into the kitchen. Group A, of course comes back in and sit through the same lecture after cooking wraps....School mostly ends around 4 to 5pm, that is, if we didn't have classes after that, which would then be ending around 6pm... Told you it could get a little stale..but I gotten do what I had to.

We've been practising knife skills and I tell you, no one suck at it more than I do. And I'm not even going to be talking about my various deep cuts (on my fingers). You'll know how precision really comes in when it comes to cutting stuff and really, I think I didn't put in any effort to doing it, otherwise it wouldn't have turned up shit. Anyway, it's the only thing so far that has made me not enjoy this thing as much..I'm having another knife skills practice tomorrow, we'll see what happens...

You are probably expecting to see the list of songs that I've enjoyed these days...but I figure I would probably be writing my next entry right after this...if you wanna, you could check this section out the next entry.

So I've not been updating the blog for too long, sue me.

I think I've lost the touch, maybe misplaced it. 've not been able to write nothing and I passed on that 16th March damn deadline for that writing competition I thought I was really psyched about, really. It was almost unbelievable that I did that, but I did. Nothing I could say except that I needed to write not within boxes and rules and regulations but within the endless confines of my brain and creativity and imagination. If I can't do what I do, then forget it. But if I had taken part in it and that I got that writer's touch back, characters and plot-wise would probably have been something like that:

Javier Mansilla, 28, straight, professional photographer on constant move (whatever catches his eyes/lens for that matter, he follows), Spanish heritage, reason for being in Buenos Aires – looking to widen his perspective in life, stumbled upon Sandra Moraiti at the airport and snapped her loads of her photos w/o her permission, convinced she would be the perfect girl in his next catalogue. Brown-eyed J’s incredibly gorgeous, needless to say, smug and a little too much arrogance but he really knows what he’s doing, when it comes to photography. A real glib-talker but essentially, honest and innocent, still trying to figure out what life really is...and Sandra, his guide.

Sandra Moraiti, 23, straight, language teacher originated from Chania, Greece, Greek-Czech heritage, reason for being in Buenos Aires – to live life to its fullest. Found a teaching job in one of B.A. junior colleges, ready to take on the world, curve balls included. Confronted J when she saw her photos in one of B.A. top magazines. Found herself falling in love with the gorgeous stranger. (J would be sweet talking, convincing her that she’s the perfect person to be in the catalogue etc, asked her out for lunch etc) Strong personality, highly independent, frank and honest etc…

Mia Arismenti, 21, lesbian, Argentinean, San Juan, reason for being in Buenos Aires – took her mother’s advice to pursue what she really wanted to be, an architect but ended up taking up random and shitty jobs in clubs as a waitress, hanging out with the wrong crowd and eventually dropping out of school. Chastised herself often for stuttering whenever she’s nervous, extremely bright kid but misplaced all that intelligence in the wrong areas… How she succumbs and answered w/o hestiation the lure of fame and wealth, the darker side of life, resorting to doing whatever to earn more money and gain popularity etc…sleeping with J for fame for example, even though she’s gay…Mia eventually loses herself…

Clearly, there are at least 4 main characters whose lives intersected and interwined in the most complicated ways. Everything grows and blooms and then writhes. The 4th character is Buenos Aires, the captial of Argentina, the magical and heavily European-infused city affectionately referred to as the 'Paris of South America' by people who can't seem to stop making comparison and getting enough of the city. Buenos Aires possessed the character and passion that I never knew about and could never understand until I lived it. It would not have been of any realism or truth if I were to just write it without ever experiencing it. That was Kink No. 1. Or actually Kink No. 2 if you consider the Writer's Block. I wanted to live it, to breathe it, before I could write anything about anything. I can't dishonor anything. In the process of working it out, I've right hand-written several pages, mostly conversations/quarrels between the characters and the gradual Buenos Aires'-my-security-blanket-place, how the characters come to rely on the city, or in Mia's case, how the beautiful but very dark and gray area city did her in. I thought of putting in like one paragraph of what I've written but I decided against it. It's really nothing worthy anyway.

Many things have had happened. One thing remains the same, I'm still not the daughter my mother had wanted. There was the false alarm that was a pregnancy (not me, of course. re: last entry), there was a 120 bucks mean allergy that nearly got me into a hospital the day of New Year, the sending off of a good friend to Tasmania, Australia, my year end papers which I'm certain I've flucked big time (and I did, I failed my Macroeconomic Paper) and a BBQ celebration thing at Jan's...and also the whole new perspective about my health. I have hormonal imbalance and the glucose level is way too low. That would explain the total blackout during my last paper and the whole not being able to sleep and eat or concentrate. And I've just finished a week stint of having to work 10 hours a day at Vivo City, HarbourFront. There were and still are, a lot of weird people, my workplace though the more significant one does not work there. Kabir Ahmed Jony, 29, single, country of origin: Blangladesh, wealth: flithly rich. He's the latest source of my troubles these days...and I'm still trying to deal with him now so we'll see what happens. Plus, I don't think I wanna talk about him much; I wouldn't wanna be giving him the attention he wanted...No way!

The crave for the pain has returned. Cart once told me that something bad will happen to me when I get the 3rd tattoo...she trusted her instincts. Whatever it was, it's certainly not the regret for not having done the 3rd tattoo..I'm thinking of doing peonies, one of Ami James' specialty (for those who watches Miami Ink, on Discovery Channel, Channel 16, you'd know he's pretty hot and talented). I found one of his completed works, the top one and Nunez', the bottom one. Anyway, since I've yet found the perfect artist and the cash, I needed to do something else to distract me so I went to get a henna tattoo...I know, I know, I could hear it, Ashley's dumb, come on, say it out loud! Don't be afraid. It's yet another day. Sucky working day...i'll deal..

Anyway, here are the songs:

James Blunt - Tears and Rain

James Morrison - One Last Chance, Pieces Don't Fit Here Anymore

Jeff Buckley - Lover, You Should Have Come Over

Joseph Arthur - Honey and the Moon

Ronan Keating feat. Kate Rusby - All Over Again

Tanya Chua - Beautiful Love

Within Temptation - Our Farewell

I wanted to understand. Who I am and why I'm here. I'm still looking for those answers of course. And right now, this freaking minute, I would like to start a clean slate, stop the chalk from running and messing up the board that is me.

I believe a basic introduction is appropriate to help me understand about stuff.

I'm me and I'm gay.

Nothing in hell will change that. Coming out to myself some 3, 4 years ago has been one of those times when I believed for a true moment, it was happiness for me. I never saw the honesty and cool and collected side that was me before that. I've taken things face value, never reading too much into them until much much later, well, not until they eventually became problems I had to face anyhow. Anyway, it was a good thing, a very happy thing for a while. And then, happiness became reality and then there are things I have to deal with and live with if I wanna be happy. Brain surgeon here worked her way in, starting from her best and longest friend. I was like a little pup who needed support and approval from people she loves. And she gets it from her best friend, someone she assumed knows her.

Best friend, Nic didn't get it quite at first, it was all blurry water color paint for her, if not, new. But eventually she figured it was cool, I am still the same person she went to school and spent birthdays wearing dresses with. And she knew, I had to be gay, from those tiny and harmless obsessions I had on one of those female teachers when we're in school, how I never got a boyfriend, how I WAS never interested in getting one...A best friend does sense these things huh? Anyway, talking about Nic, there are just too many things to worry about her. Maybe it's just me but I have this feeling that I'm losing her, to something I can't see. Just last afternoon, I noticed this old photo taken at my brother's birthday and Nic and her brother were there too. As I looked at it, I wanted things to be like in those times, when we were just hanging out and there wasn't a problem we couldn't solve if only we tried...I wanted the old Nic back. I wanted her to not be obsessed with herself, her boyfriends problems and all that...and for once, be genuinely happy that she's even alive. Last night, a mutual friend of ours, Lynn called me. I've not seen her for the longest time and out of a blue, there's a phone call. If anyone knew me, they know that I do not take calls that aren't in my contact list, that including private numbers and whatnots. Anyway, hers was a private number and I was writing my notes for my coming exams and I dismissed it. So the next thing she did was to send me a message. That, on the other hand, I will reply, whether I recognizes the number or not.

She told me she might be pregnant. I knew I had to drop my work and meet her up and be there for her. (It's a good thing she lives only 2 blocks away) Silly to say, Lynn was in total frantic-mode. Apparently she decided to do it with her boyfriend of a couple months back in her own bedroom some couple of days. I couldn't even tell her that she's damn stupid, it's no longer relevant. She wanted to know if she was going to have a child, I told her she had to wait, for at least a couple of weeks before anything shows. She didn't think she could get through it without any help, anyone. Mr. Smart Ass guy's in camp and he's not going to be there for her. Well, at least he didn't shirk responsibilties and left her in lurch. Anyway, Lynn wanted I can't remember the boyfriend's name to check out abortion clinics and I went out of my way to convince her against abortion. She just wasn't getting it.

As far as I'm concerned, a child is a gift. If I were in her shoes, I would raise the kid no matter the costs. The kid's mine and the least I could do is to raise him/her good and right. Anyway, I think the kid'll be the happiest one in town, since he/she wouldn't have to worry if he/she's gay or when he/she's contemplating a tattoo or something. Mom here, been there, done that. Besides, a kid could give you joy you can't imagine and hell you didn't think you could pull through...it'd be great. But before that, a long way to go...

This is for you, my dear Eva. I don't need a reason anymore, for the things I've done and will be doing for you. I love you, you're a very important person in my life now and I believe we have made plans to take over the world. I understand that in this lifetime, you will never ever fall in love with me. I accepted that and I'll deal. No worries. I can't lie to say I wasn't jealous, I am only human but those feelings come and go in a flash. And I've learnt to live with it. I am only happy you found Javier, for he deserves you as much as you him. He's a great person, I think. And like I've told you, if I can't give you happiness, I'll make sure someone else is.

I don't know what the future holds but as long as I try my best, things can't be any worse than they are now. I'm trying to figure out the person I am, so I could be the person I wanna be in the future. I think I wanna write and perhaps cook too. I can't wait for classes to start next semester which is probably end of March or April. When I am able to cook, you shall be my first to taste it. If possible, I would cook for you, for the rest of my life and even for your kids. And also Maria, the carbonhydrates she needed and liked so much.

I often felt as if I've placed myself in an invisible prison, chained and locked away because I've discovered who I am, or parts of who I am. I wanted to get out, break free of my thoughts, thoughts that I am less than what I can be, thoughts that have made me weak. I would need some time and I will find a way. The first step is letting my family know, everything that is to be known about me. Should I tell my family about me? Should I let them in? I don't know. All I know is that I'm scared, I am a coward. I can't imagine their reactions and disappointment. I'm pretty done with the waiting and hiding. I wanted so much to be honest, to be true, the way I was to myself. I needed assurance to tell me that it isn't that bad, when I do tell them. I don't need their acceptance and understanding, but I would like them to be happy with my choices in life. Do you think they could do that?




Anyway, I'm having this little section at the end of my entry where I tell people the songs I'm currently listening to on my IPOD. Just so you know, the songs I'm listening to pretty much gives you a picture of what I was going through or feeling...you know, for that period of time.





A Whole New World - Disney Original Soundtrack (Aladdin)
Alanis Morrisette - Everything
Alejandro Sanz feat. Shakira - Te Lo Agradezco Pero No
Ashlee Simpson - Love Makes the World Go Round, Love Me for Me, Better Off
Daniel Powter - Love You Lately
Hilary Duff - Cry, Hide Away
John Mayer - St. Patrick's Day
KT Tunstall - Heal Over, Other Side of The World
Mandy Moore - It's Gonna Be Love
Mandy Moore feat. Jonathan Foreman - Someday We'll Know
Nelly Furtado - All Good Things Come To An End
Sarah Mclachlan - River, Hold On, I Love You
Switchfoot - I Dare You to Move

“Till death do us part, my love, if only for a short while.”

Clutching the letter so tightly her knuckles turned pale, Tara Gellar fought off in futile the impossible raging surge of emotions that go on inside her. She could not distinguish between gratitude and anger that Alexis hid the letter. AJ spotted the letter when he was fumbling through one of those secret drawers his father had in his study room. The young boy has taken it upon himself to clearing Alexis’ stuff. Tara never cared about those drawers simply because it did not matter. “Well, I have secrets of my own too, you know.” She replied with a mischievous grin, when Alexis wondered if she were ever curious about what he had in those drawers, the secrets he kept. Now that she thought about it, if no one ever did fumbled through those drawers, she would never have had the chance to read Alexis’ letter to her. Years has since slipped away the way her beloved husband did, as silent as night, as inevitable as death usually was. But Tara could still recall vividly the ugly meltdown after Alexis’ funeral service, with her son. It was the first time she ever hit him. AJ’s grades were slipping and he decided he should skip his lectures so he could fail his year-end papers.

“I don't have anybody.” AJ yelled, at the top of his lungs. “What? Of course you do, AJ. You have me!” Tara was taken aback by his son’s sudden outburst. “No, I don't. You won't even look at me. It's so obvious you don't want me around.” “That's not true.” Tara said unconvincingly. It would have been deception to say that it has been easy and painless living with AJ, especially after Alexis died. Every time she looked at AJ, she saw his father; the messy blond hair, the same sparkle and the color of summer meadows that would reflect from his big, emerald eyes. At times, Tara found it hard to even stay in the same room. Ironically, it was the only reason why they even tried for a kid. Alexis wanted a part of him behind, to protect and love his Tara, the way he had. It sure was one hell of a risk they took.

“Yes it is. Dad ... died, and it's like you don't even care.” AJ countered harshly. Tara was shocked and tears stung her eyes. “Of course I care. How can you even think that?” “How can I not? You haven't even cried. You've just been running around like it's been some big chore or something. Cleaning up after Dad's mess.” Tara slapped AJ across the face as he yelped, putting his hand to his swollen cheek. As soon as her action sank, Tara put her hand over her mouth in horror. “AJ ... I've been ... working. I've been busy, because I have to…” “No! You've been avoiding me.” AJ confronted his mother. “I'm not! ... I have to do these things, 'cause ... 'cause when I stop, then he's really gone.” AJ frowned in confusion, trying to make sense of his mother’s words. “And I'm trying. AJ, I am, I am really trying to take care of things, but I don't even know what I'm doing. Your father always knew.” Truth was Alexis has always been the stronger one among them. “Nobody's asking you to be Dad.” “Well, who's gonna be if I'm not? Huh, AJ? Have you even thought about that? Who's gonna make things better?” Tara cried harder. “Who's gonna take care of us?” “Mom…” “I didn't mean to push you away, I didn't. I just, I couldn't let you see me.” AJ watched in tears as his mother collapsed on the floor. “I don't know what we're gonna do. I'm scared.”

In retrospect, Tara didn’t have the slightest idea how she lasted this long, with no means to fend for her own child and no anybody to speak of. It was then she realized it was Alexis who pulled her through. Albeit Alexis was gone, he had left with Tara memories to last the rest of her life. It took everything Alexis had in him to come clean with Tara, the painful truth he was HIV positive. It was two months before their wedding, when Alexis showed up at Tara’s doorstep, his blood test result in hand. She could tell instantly that something was wrong but she couldn’t put a finger on it. Alexis convinced Tara the test was simply a routine for his medical checkup and that she shouldn’t be fretting over it. Her world shattered as Alexis broke the news.

“You slept with some whore you don’t even know?” Tara questioned harshly her voice broke and wiping away stray tears. She refused to be the weak one and let Alexis see her cry. He could not even bring himself to look at her. “I’m sorry,” He mustered barely. “Sorry, that all you can say?” Her gaze pierced through Alexis’ soul as she slapped him across his face. “How could you?” Tara demanded. Alexis tried to take Tara into his embrace. “How could you?” She said again, fighting off and pounding hard with her fists against Alexis’ chest as she broke down. “I’m sorry…” Under normal circumstances, any sound woman would have broken up the engagement and be grateful to be able go on with life but Tara could never leave Alexis. Okay, so none of that dancing around under a crescent moon and drinking infinite amount of quality champagne and exchanging vows in a church happened but it was Alexis. She could give up that much if it meant still having him around.

“And Andrea called too, she and Brad couldn’t make it either, something about being sick to the stomach. So reception is cancelled.” Tara said, shrugging her shoulders carelessly as she wrote the last few names off their guests list. “It’s better; we’ll have the cake, champagne and all that dancing space to ourselves.” Alexis looked up at his girl. “I think we should elope right now. You always wanted to travel. It’ll be great.” Tara actually managed to look excited and got back to dialing numbers. “I’m sorry but the folks aren’t flying in for the wedding either.” Tara said, putting down the receiver. “Your parents?” Alexis frowned. “Yeah,” she said, dismissively. “Well, my dad used the word ‘abasement’. Abasement, who would have thought of that,” Tara shook her head in disgust, unimpressed, and going through the guest list, just to realize that no one is actually coming. Alexis looked sadly at Tara, studying her, and with his right thumb, caressed her cheeks gently. And no sooner, the façade melted and Tara broke under his touch, started weeping uncontrollably. “He’s my dad!!” Tara yelled, her tears soaking Alexis’ shoulder. “Hush baby…” Alexis whispered in his lover’s ear. “It’s ok…” Tara’s dad, Caleb had once liked him and called him ‘the son he never had’. All he could do now is to run his fingers through Tara’s hair, taking in her every sob and calming her down.

“Honey, what are you doing?” Tara yelled when she found Alexis gone on his side of the bed. Alexis’ health had deteriorated to a point there was not going to be a whole lot of time left. And so he got a house out on the beach; the very same one Tara and he exchanged wedding vows. “Hey, get back to bed, doctor’s order, no, or rather Tara’s order.” Tara ordered when she found Alexis outside the balcony writing into a book. Ignoring her plea, Alexis continued writing. “What did we have for breakfast, do you remember? I wanted to say bagel but I think that was yesterday. You have two sunny side-ups, I remember because they were wiggling at me like little boobs.” Tara smiled at his choice of words. Alexis had gotten up from bed for the sunrise. “Alex, what are you writing this for?” Tara joined her husband by the wooden patio, overlooking the vast sea. “My journal.” “That’s new.” Alexis nodded, his non-writing hand tangled with his wife’s as the couple lay on their stomachs. “I figured, life goes by so fast, if you don’t write it down, things just get lost.” “And I wanna remember.” “Down every last bagel.” “Down to every last everything I do with you.” Alexis said as he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved so dear. Alexis barely finished his last word when he realized the sky was getting brighter. “It’s going to be light soon, honey” Alexis said, almost inaudible. The wasted man had his beloved wife tucked comfortably between his legs and they sat watching the sunrise. Tara fought her tears. She could feel Alexis slipping away as the sun crosses the horizon. “And you’re leaving.” She said, resigned. “Baby, you know I would stay as long as you want me.” Tara didn’t know if his words were meant to make her feel better. “How’s forever? Does forever work for you?” Alexis forced a smile across his pale face when he heard his wife. It has been too long since he heard his Tara throw a childish tantrum. “It has been forever, sweetie.”

"I, Tara Deidre Gellar take you, Alexis Jacob Gallagher, to be my lawful husband to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."


Ok, so I know this is the third time I've posted this thing up but honestly, I can't write no further. What started as an assignment/adventure sort of ended with an anti-climax. Yes, the story was anti-climatic, as I may quote my tutor's exact word. And he also used 'melodrama'. I'm not perfectly sure if it was a bad word but it definitely is not a good word. Anyway, I've checked the dictionary and it says something about a play with a sensational plot & violent emotional appeal...Hmm, what do you think? And also, I prided myself for being able to reduce a originally 2500 words story to a 1585 words. That's pretty close, isn't it? The word limit was set at 1500 words. Anyway, I think I'll have it up for a while longer, people who read it, please tell me what you think about it.