Stories

Over the Phone

2:16 AM
Another story from the deep recesses of my mind. Enjoy. :)

For reasons more than I could comprehend, my ex is suddenly out of my door for almost half a year. That's 180 days, compared to the 1400 days that we've been together. Is it sad? Is it lonely to be so?

The fan in my room pounded the air with such force, that I was suddenly awaken by the white noise with this idea in my thoughts. I've not been in a relationship for almost six months, my brain repeated.

And to add salt to the wound, this paragraph emerges from the chest of drawers within my head...
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more. 

I took a look at my phone. It's fucking 5am. And Lord Alfred Tennyson appeared. Such great timing, brain. Thanks. It's a time for me that's hard to go back to sleep, for fearing I might miss the alarm. And my brain has to do this for me. Thanks again bud. I'll keep you sedated with a pitcher of Long Island Tea next time.

I woke up and turned off the bathroom lights. What greeted me in the mirror is the look of a man, so deep within his emotions and thoughts in the middle of the night. Not exactly a good look. And I need to start my exercise routine. As soon as I could.

Yeah, my jaw looks chiseled, my straight hair tousled, my ribs poking out due to me going on a diet and counting calories. My arms looked better than ever, my chest too. But my abs are still hidden beneath a layer of fat that I so despise, I might trade it off with my limited-edition WOW postcards for Winter Veil, just for a glimpse of it and a 2-second fame on Instagram.

People generally say I look good these days, better than ever before. But is it so? The gay visual perception of themselves is always a few notches behind what people perceive. I find it hard to believe that I was the fat, weird, nerdy kid last time in high school. I still have that part inside me. Heh.

Ding!

Who's messaging me at this hour?

"Hey, I just want to say I miss you."

Alfie. The guy that I somehow connected with a month ago. It's another missed opportunity in my dating life; Alfie has a boyfriend. And he went back to the United States to continue with his studies. Shows no interest in long distant relationships.

"It's 5am something in Malaysia. Not sure whether should I say good morning or evening. hahaha"

 "You need to do something? Waking up so early?'

"Nope, just waking up suddenly in the middle of pretending to be dead, God knows why."

"Hahaha :) Do you miss me?"

"If I say I'm not, I would be lying to you. I like your company when you're here. :)"

"I miss the mamak stalls. Nothing here compares to it."

I go silent. Yeah, mamak stalls. When you're here, we'll always hang out for cendols, teh tariks, and basically everything that we could get our hands at the mamak stall. It's not the food, it's your company. We enjoyed each other's company so much we basically had a few rounds of stuff just to prolong the conversation.

You, with your dark chocolate skin, bushy eyebrows, the stubbled jaw, and wavy hair that you always attempt to flatten it out on the sides.

Me, taking it all in that handsome face, that slim atheletic build, which I hope to see again next summer holiday.

 "Yeah, of course nothing compares to it."

Two grey ticks. Received, but not yet seen. Must be in class, that boy. As I put my phone down, getting to readjust myself into bed, another buzz came along.

 "I hope our plan to Bangkok is still on. You're coming, right?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll look up the air tickets when I'm free kay?"

"Keep in touch kay? I do miss you, you bugger. :*"

Flirting on the phone again. Old habits never die, especially for Alfie. As I lay my head on my pillow, my head got thinking all the possibilities that could have been, might have been. Ifs. Whys.

And my thoughts lay asunder, with Alfie's face filling in the space. Those lips, softer than the inner petals of a rose. Those hands, thin with sinew but holds a ton in between them. My head is filled with his scent, the scent of cardamoms, the scent of cinnamon, the scent of spices.

The scent of a man over the phone.
Stories

Pride And Lies

4:15 AM
*Based on my own experience. Enjoy a short story from me.*

My watch shows it's 11pm. The cafe's almost closed, but he's not replying. I waited patiently as down another cup of black coffee. No sugar.

Should have asked for sugar. But no, the waistline! Such a dilemma. Coffee's not helping. I'm getting even more nervous.

Ding!

My fingers swiped to see his answer.

"There's nothing wrong with your results, Tom."

"You're sure, Izzu?"

"It's just your hepatitis antibodies getting low. I could give you a jab and a hardcopy of the report on Monday."

My heart lets off a sigh of relief, but my brain is bringing me back to a memory from a year ago.

***

"Dear, you should get yourself checked. We're in this relationship for four years. Could you at least do this for me? You requested to see my health report when we're together, so now it's your turn to do it."

I sat in his car, fiddling with the seat belt. I've always liked the seat belt. He puts this little padding on it that helps to keep your shirts getting all wrinkly when you're using it. Hmm. Little monkey on a seatbelt.

"Okay, anything for you." I replied half-heartedly. I mean, why should I go get tested? I have been faithful. I'm not like the other guys. I don't have Jackd. I don't have Grindr.  I don't meet other guys! I don't have a gay social life! Why want me go get tested?

***

"You're tested positive for gonorrhea, Mr Tom."

"Err... You're sure, doctor? I really have been faithful. No other guys."

"You do drugs?"

"No. Of course not."

"You drink?"

"Socially yes, but I don't get myself drunk."

"Maybe you'd like to discuss this with your partner."

The Whatsapp messages flew. Dear is to go the clinic to get tested right away after work. Report came back. He's negative. How could this be? Where have I gotten it?

"You don't have to worry, Mr. Tom. I'll prescribe you a course of antibiotics and a jab. It is most important you get this treated, as having an STI may increase the chances of getting other infections as well as HIV."

***

We broke up a few months after that. There's nothing now but cordial messages between us, and the occasional Facebook status updates. We didn't unfollow or unfriend each other. We just ignore the streams of photos that our friends tagged us.

Friends. I have a few friends. For benefits, that is.

You have no idea how these men worshipped me. I still get messages from them whenever they're in town. But sometimes it's just so sudden, that I couldn't accommodate them all. There's work and there's family. I couldn't fuck every night, even if I wanted to.

How much has changed. I, the wallflower that refuses to participate in the orgies and fantasies of the gay community, finally succumbed to it, for I, wanting to drown myself in the hedonistic waves, relieving me of this sorrow, this sorrow of breaking up with the first man I've ever loved.

But of course it comes with a price. Condoms are not cheap. Lube is not cheap. Getting tested in a private clinic, in the comfort of an understanding doctor, is not cheap. And that's what happened in the first paragraph. My doctor Whatsapped me my results. Or more like my old flame Whatsapping me my results.

Then, it dawned on me.

For four years, I've been stupid enough to believe a man who says that he is as faithful as I am to him. I got gonorrhea when I am with him.

I got nothing when I practically fucked each and every guy who is sexually compatible with me.  

His pride. And his lies.

Goodbye motherfucker.
Stories

Today

11:36 PM
If you're a bookworm, you'd probably now know that there's a local bookstore which is called BookXcess at Amcorp Mall. If you don't, well, just head over there. They sell overstocked books at ridiculously low prices. I got an illustrated version of "Life of Pi" by Yann Martel in hardcover for less than RM25. I'm serious.

Also, they have this ongoing competition called Receipt Stories. You submit a very very short story to them and if it gets picked, it will be published in their receipt for a period of time. Also, you'll receive a voucher to buy books too. Check out their website here.

That's what I did and I got picked! It's really a good surprise.

So today, I'm going to share my little receipt story entitled "Today". It's not much of a story, but more like a poem.



Today, one man shall be free from the chains of the rat race.

Today, one man shall sink so deep in the chasms of poverty.

Today, one man shall rise from the ordinary shadows to be exceptional.

Today, one man shall from grace that he always believes he deserves.

But tomorrow, we'll never know the fate that awaits them.

So don't underestimate the power of tomorrow, today.


That's all for today. :)
Love of my Life

He Wants To Run

4:20 AM
(Today's post is a short story inspired by all the things happening around me this week. As usual, I like to write short stories that are filled with love. Nothing naughty here though. :P)

Run. Run. Run.

All I can hear is these 3 words inside my head.

It's all coming to an end.

"What does it mean when all things are not the way it seems?"

Run. Run. Run.

"What does it mean when your life shows such a monotonous tone that you start to hate it admist all the comfort that you can have?"

Comfort doesn't equate to happiness.

"One should plan beforehand. It's like banging your head to a tree with no helmet on!"

You don't understand.

As a kid, I always remember that I love Disney's version of "The Jungle Book" very much. My grandma bought me the VHS tape and the storybook that comes with it. I love Baloo. Baloo doesn't have to go to school, Baloo doesn't have to do homework, Baloo doesn't need baths!

Baloo only needs the bare necessities.


Stories

What Is Not Mine, Is Not Mine

1:33 AM
This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.
Love of my Life

I'm Not Ready To Marry

4:20 AM
I keep on fiddling with the ring on my finger.

Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.

Blue sapphire in a cushion cut, 1.5 carats and surrounded with brilliant diamonds. All set in platinum. Most of all, it came in a robin blue box. Tiffany's. 

Theo saw my expression; bewildered, puzzled, like a cat whose tongue got caught.

"Don't you like it dear? Your name and mine is on the inside of the ring."

I can only nod. As much as I want to say yes, but something just isn't quite right. 


Stories

In The Middle Of The Night

3:20 AM
In the middle of the night,
I remembered we
bathe in the moonlight,
And you holding me tight,
Gazing in the distance
but nothing in sight,
All in the middle of the night.

In the middle of the night,
I used to dream
of a white knight,
Rescuing me from
the danger tonight,
And when it turns to daylight,
All I see is you
who tells me all is right.

How I love to be awake
in the middle of the night.
Stories

It's Just A Story

2:38 AM
Tap tap tap....

Staring at the computer until 3 am. And that damn Photoshop is jammed. Shit.

Papers at hand, I'm writing furiously just in case my idea suddenly disappeared from my mind. There's still ton of paperwork to do too. Being a designer is not all bed of roses.

"Still working?"

"Have to. I thought you're in bed?"

"I'm cold."

"Turn off that air cond then."

"Turned off."

"Go get a blanket."

"I did."

"Then?"

And suddenly he hugs me from behind. Surprise, surprise.

" Hun, take a rest." Spoken with an air of warmth that betrays his words. Together with a nuzzle on the cheek too.

"I'd love to, but it's a week before the deadline and I have to hurry."

"You don't have to do this."

"....."

"You always said that your boss and clients are always awful, demanding with no reasonable reasons. You know that somehow or another you can quit and find other means of living."

Yup, his words are for real. I'm just being a slave there rather than a proper worker who has rights. But design is always what I have done, though I have a "love and hate" relationship with it. If I quit, how will I get the bills paid? Food on the table?

"We have discussed this over and over again, my job can put food on the table and a roof above for both of us." His hands now gently holding mine with care, with an assuring touch.

"But it will be a burden to you. We promised to share everything. It's just not fair to you."

"I promise it won't. Seeing you toiling like this in front there like a machine just breaks my heart."

How sweet his words can be some times.

"Fine, I'll try to quit in a month's time. I just couldn't leave these projects hanging and without a word. There's no absolute guarantee, but I'll try."

He smiled. Gorgeous. From the first time we met until now. I remembered him smiling that day when we talked about pets that we like. Heck, I even remember the cologne on his sun-kissed skin, that black shirt which just cuts amazingly into his figure.

"So can we go to bed together?"

"Haha... You naughty little thing."

And I just switch off that damn hanged computer.