What We Want, We Don't Always Get
I want to talk about many things but at times like this, pretty words just don't seem to do the trick.
I want to talk about the O'Reilly's Tree Top Walk that we did on Easter monday, about the birds that flocked to us, perched on our arms while pecking the seeds off our palms, how it was cold (but not that cold) and maysan had to resort to wearing a beanie. I also want to upload some of the nice photos that we took.
I want to talk about the umpteenth shopping trip to Harbourtown we did last saturday and the uber chic kitchy KEDS that I eventually bought. I want to talk about the 6 peaches and 8 juicy plums that I got for $1.50 at Fruit Barn (what a bargain!).
I want to talk about Friday, when we watched Sixth Sense on TV, how we talked about Haley Joel Osment's freakily superb acting, and how I started tearing during that scene when Haley told his mum about how his dead grandmother told him to tell her that she was proud of her. Everyday. I kept as quiet as possible and tried not to make any sniffing noises because it is embarrassing to be all emo in front of Wayne, but at the exact second when that thought ran through my mind, the bugger had already gotten off the couch, scrambled over and put his face in front of mine, just in time for me to hide behind my favourite yellow cushion to hide my face (and snot).
I want to talk about Sunday when Wayne took us to Labrador to go jogging, how the view as we jogged along the beach was absolutely beautiful and how I am so proud to have managed 3.6 km without keeling over from cramps. I wish we would have more chances to do that together.
I want to talk about Sunday evening when I visited Dreamcentre church with Wayne and his friend Leslie, how there was a really interesting Elvis Presley concert going on, and how we got back home afterwards to eat bread for late dinner at the dinner table while talking about all things very strange. Like flicking toes, running fingers along ears, and gender equality. And how men should be able to get pregnant. And have cramps.
I want to talk about the super stinky and smelly blue vein cheese that Wayne bought for us to try on monday, and the very yummy tawny port that went along with it, and how we were discussing what strange foods we were going to let him try when he comes to singapore at the end of this year.
I wish I could vaccuum-suck all the picturesque and fuzzy moments into my head, and lock them up in a treasure chest with a golden lock, tuck it somewhere safe. I wish God had created us with an internal built-in software so I could convert the complexities of my thoughts and emotions into a beautiful word document format, or the ability to spill them all out on a white blank canvas, so I could immortalise them in lines and colours.
But I cant, because all the past events and the beautiful memories that they entail have been reduced to an intangible weight buried deep within my chest, and as time passes by, with each good memory added to each and every day, it only grew heavier and heavier. And I find myself clinging on desperately to it, because I don't want to forget.
And I am immobilised like that.
I'm sorry, I hate to be writing emotional posts like this all the time, but at this point of time, I just can't help it.
Labels: aussie, emo