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All the firsts

She ambled cautiously through the void deck, her mahogany eyes always scanning for any signs of movement. I was, obviously, ogling at how pretty she was, how her butterfly earrings matched her personality, her basic white tee and violet leggings seemed indifferent from a wedding dress. I snapped out of my trance and asked her,

What are you looking for?

Her voice danced its way into my ears and as she replied,

Nothing lmao, I was just looking out for anyone who knows us. We don't want to be exposed on our first date right?

It struck me how she was the caring, level-headed and careful one. I could not resist sliding my hand and gently slipping it into hers. My heart raced as my mind I questioned the feasibility of my actions

OH NO! YOU DIMWITTED BUFFOON! God, you could have at least asked?! Well I'll be waiting for the invitation to your funeral. See ya!

She was smiling all along as my consciousness was bombarding me with pessimistic thoughts. That smile gave me all the assurance I needed.

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My mom and dad’s love story:

My mother loved to read. She came from a poor family, so she couldn’t afford to buy books with her little pocket money. As a social butterfly in school, she had many friends to borrow books from. She would frequently go over to my father’s house to borrow his books to read because both of them had similar taste in storybooks. My father had always liked her because my mother was supposedly “the cutest girl in the village”. One day he finally mustered up the courage to confess his feelings because it was the last year of high school and my mother was going to leave for university in the city. This meant that it was his only and last chance. However he was a shy boy, he rarely talked to my mother, and she only thought of him as a friend. Hence it was difficult for him to succeed in capturing her heart. One day, he purposely left a bookmark in a book he lent to my mother. The bookmark says that he loved her very much and would like to be her boyfriend. My mother thought the bookmark was very sweet so she accepted his offer.

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“Why is this always happening to me?” I screamed in annoyance.

It was my sibling’s birthday and I decided to plan a surprise birthday party for her.  Everything was going on as planned and I was sure that it would be a success.

All of sudden, my sister, who was supposed to be at the library, came home. Without any prior notice, my parents and I had to clean out all of the decorations immediately.

“I’m home!” I heard my sister’s voice ringing as I was still in the midst of clearing the balloons. “Oh no!” I thought to myself as I slowly looked up.

She was staring intently at me and asked, “Is this for me?” With no idea how to react, I just ignored her, avoiding her gaze.

After coming back to my senses, I was told that she had already found out that I was preparing this surprise for her and decided to surprise me back.

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You wouldn’t call him a sculptor, no; rather, a perfectionist. If there was one word to describe his life, it was perfect. Along with him is an enormous cabinet that houses sculptures carved with his scaling hands. He swore to only create the most beautiful things in life.

She was not meant to be placed here, with her ever so messy hair and crooked smile. To him, she was nowhere near perfect.

It was the ideal wedding he created that awakened her desire for beauty. She had never felt such an intoxicating ecstasy, and so she remains in this moment forever.

Now the wedding will finally be perfect.

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A poignant stench wafted throughout the living room. The static television screen was the only prominent light source in the dimly lit room. A broken ceiling light dangled precariously above the enervated lady. Just a few hours ago, she was the happiest woman on earth, but now she sits on her sofa, grossly indulging in alcohol.

Streaks of sunlight dissipated throughout the living room. Their bodies tangled like the roots of an old log. She could never have been happier than that moment. No words were exchanged, except those from the television.

Her love for him was best expressed in silence, for his touch was enough of a reassurance. In that simple moment, her heart was filled with joy and a patent smile bloomed across her face. She was happy; contented. She didn't know what he was feeling at the moment, but she only assumed it was the same.

He muttered the words through his teeth, the grotesque words she wished she didn’t hear. The subtle hints of rejection in his sentence.

She knew what he meant, caught in an impasse with no way out.

His words slashed her; the words ‘Goodbye’ engraved into her wounded heart. The thought of having had her life together crumbled apart, for she fell into an abyss of emotions.

Faced head-on with reality; she was presented with an unfortunate truth. He didn’t love her like she so hopelessly loved him. Her heart shattered.

Alone, she sat on the sofa, drowning in her tears, for he left her on the sofa.

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We always took a polaroid picture on Valentines’ Day. This day marked the day we first started dating and the subsequent 5 years of anniversaries before we got engaged.

On our 5th anniversary, she looked at me with a smile bright enough to light up a dark street. “For the next polaroid picture, it should be us celebrating our wedding.” I laughed and nodded, my back pocket suddenly getting heavier.

“You okay? You’ve been daydreaming for a while now,” my brother questions, chuckling a little. I could hardly contain the grin on my face as I watched her twirl around in her gown. My heart fluttered as my wife danced across the floor, the happiness in her overflowing. She spots me beaming at her and approaches me. She makes a brief stop to our table and comes back holding something behind her back.

My wife holds up the polaroid camera and beckons me over to take a picture. The ‘click’ goes off, handing me the polaroid while waiting for the film to appear. Once the film developed, we looked at it fondly, remembering memories of our relationship.

With eyes full of affection, she wishes me a Happy Valentines’ Day.

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They met online in February 2014, which isn't the ideal way to build relationships. He was brighter, and his route to success had already been carved out for him. She, on the other hand, was just trying to keep going because she didn't know where life would take her. Putting aside their differences, they took solace in one another.

He'd drive an hour across Singapore simply to have lunch with her, and she'd reciprocate. They shared a simple yet sweet bond.

However, he was compelled to leave for the United States to further his education, while she remained in Singapore to complete her studies. Several factors made it difficult for them to communicate and seek the gratification they had become accustomed to.

They agreed to meet each year on Valentine's Day, the day they met the very first time.

Every year, they would spend 24 hours together and make the most of it; she would go over this year, and he would return to Singapore the following year.

Instead of his shadow at her front door, she was met by a phone call on February 14, 2021.

"I'm sorry, but I've made other arrangements for Valentine's Day this year."

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To her, he was spring.

Young and daring, together they bloomed in bursts of colour, stumbling, gasping in fields of flowers. They breathed in storm clouds and laughed amid thunder, gasoline in their veins. sparks were drawn out by fingertips that ran across soft skin, creating flames that couldn’t be put out by rain, electricity that pushed her senses into overdrive. She was learning to love fire that burned, burned, burned, but she could never stay away.

Murmurs and promises to mend had her in the palm of his hand. His eyes may have been blue, bright like the sky; but oh how they could burn with the intensity of the sun itself.

He was a summer warmth and autumn breeze, a comforting embrace. He was tumultuous waves and darkened skies, wild and unrestrained. the grin he shoots her sends her heart down spirals, and when her hand is in his? She feels ready to take on the world.

He was all that she loved, but he burned a little too bright, a little too fast.

So this spring, she sits alone.

With charred hands and a blackened heart, she cries as though it were still winter.

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A date. It’s definition is a social or romantic appointment or engagement such as going to a park, festival or shopping, whether it’s with your friends or fated partner, and showing how much you appreciate them. It could also be a simple act such as spending time together with your buddies. After all, St Valentine's Day is an annual festival to celebrate romantic love, friendship and admiration and the easiest way to do that is a date. But St Valentine’s Day doesn’t just apply to romantic relationships too you know, although it usually has a romantic connotation.

Many people enjoy these dates with others but some do not. It could be because of a simple problem that wasn’t anticipated such as the weather or an accidental slip of tongue that caused your companion(s) to be upset. However, please don’t be too upset. While you might feel that your special day has been spoiled, I am sure that the other person will feel much worse than what you feel. After all, most people might not know, but that someone could have spent sleepless nights just worrying about what could go wrong. His or her carefree expression could bely the many thoughts and worries that went into this date. What clothes should I wear? Where should I go? What presents should I get? Will there be problems? Will they like this?

So, please don’t disparage the amount of effort your friend or lover put into this date. Be a bigger person that forgives them and enjoy your Valentine’s Day. It is a special day for you after all. So instead spend the time with your partner(s) and make this a memorable date that you will remember, and have a happy Valentine’s Day.

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I grasped the bloodied sword right in my chest. Is this it, is this the end? pulling my vision ninety degrees up, I face the ice-blue eyes I am familiar with. Staring back was a plastered cheshire grin oozing with excitement.

“I’ve won, right? After countless deaths, thousands of years, I finally won!” He said ecstatically.

Ah so it’s always been a game to him. Of course it is, he’s a god.

An oh-so mighty immortal, yet forgetting something oh-so. Important.

For the first time in eons, the glistening in his eyes waned, and his smile started to fade. My body dropped as he tried to cry out. “Hey, you’re still coming back right? Why aren't you healing?” His trembling hands grasped my lifeless bloodied body as I let out a smile with the last of my remaining energy. His smile that I had spent my entire life trying to tear off from his plastered face was gone with such a simple thing. His smile that I had spent thousands of years of effort to see that expression change was gone with such a minuscule act.

All because I was just a mortal.

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I was never a fun person to be around with. For starters, I would stare into black space and think about the most redundant things. Hence I only have one close confidant.

She was a person who wasn’t afraid of anything, if she could do it, she would. She is also very intelligent and patient. I was the exact opposite yet somehow we clicked like how opposite poles of a magnet attract.

It was just another boring school day, with both of us sitting on the bench. One was reading a book while the other was sleeping. Needless to say, I was the one sleeping. Yet when I opened my eyes, I found her staring into the field where the greenery exudes a feeling of peacefulness I would never get in my life. my curiosity got the better of me, and i accidentally blurted out “Why are you staring into nothing?” when obviously she must have worries that clouded her mind.

But she didn’t mind my insensitive question, yet even answered like she was really thinking about my stupid comment. “I was just wondering what makes us so afraid of two men or two women being together.  all the things we could fear in this world, and we pick love”

“huh?”

“don’t you wonder about that too?”

“yea i do but why so sudden”

“You just confessed to me a few minutes ago?”

“oh” I paused. oh god i actually did.

“and that was my answer”

“i see”

What was she even saying? Is that even considered an answer?

“Wait up you nerd!”

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“Happy Valentine’s Day, darling! Here’s the gift for you.”

I took over the gift with a shocking look as he always gave me fresh air as presents. However, when I opened the box, I was even more shocked. I thought to myself, “Seriously? A brick? What can I do with it? Slap him with it?” Here comes the annoying voice at this moment, “Don’t you think I am very creative? Brick means 专一 (Dedicated) and see our relationship can be as hard as this brick!”

I just thought to myself “How much longer do I have to act like I love his lame jokes.”

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We used to be the best tablemates since Junior College. I used to have a crush on him, however, he was always surrounded by girls. We were so close as though I felt like he was mine.

I was afraid that he was already in someone else's hands, therefore I did not admit it to him

The day after graduation, I was leaving for overseas studies.

I sent him a long text, telling him how I felt and I was leaving. I was waiting for him to send me off at the departure hall.

I waited till the broadcast said that my door was closing, and with all the regrets that I had, I walked into the departure hall. Little did I know that he reached the airport right after I left.

It was too late.

We both missed a step, being together.

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The way she hums in the shower, how pretty she looks when she sleeps was simply mesmerizing. I snap a picture or two sometimes, always having one on hand, just in case. I even walk her to work every day to make sure she does not get followed, there are too many of them out there. We play hide and seek a lot, but she never wins. I am just too good a hider. The
biggest issue is her wavering commitment to me. Day after day she invites the same man to our house, hugging, kissing, and watching movies together. I feel as though she cannot see what a beautiful thing we have. I would call myself a man in love, willing to do anything for his relationship. I had to do everything I could to make sure he did not come between us.

I sat back in my chair, blood-stained wrists throbbing from the cuffs as the policeman scribbles every word I say, looking at me like I was a psychopath, how pathetic. “Have you found the body yet?” I taunted, knowing they will never discover the corpse of the filthy home wrecker. “You’re under arrest for stalking and first-degree murder, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

It’s a pity they do not understand what true love is.

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It was an arranged marriage. First night together. Natasha woke up earlier than Steve because she didn't want him to see her morning face as she thought she looked ugly.

She quickly grabbed her make-up brushes and powder and ran to the bathroom, trying her best to not make a single sound that would cause him to wake up. When she tried opening the bathroom door, it made a squeaking sound as the door was rusty. The commotion caused Steve to wake up. He was confused when he saw Natasha rushing into the bathroom with her makeup tools. He asked her, “darling, is everything alright?” Natasha replied nervously, “ hmm yea.”  Although it was an arranged marriage and they did not know each other well, Steve could tell that Natasha was worried about something. Natasha quickly rubbed make up on her face and came out of the bathroom. Steve noticed that she looked different.  He knew that Natasha was a shy girl who wasn't confident in her own skin. He then put two and two together and realized that she had put make-up on to cover up her blemishes!

Steve smiled and said “ hey, you don't have to apply makeup to look perfect.  I like the way you look. I love your smile, your apple cheeks, the way your cheeks turn pink when someone compliments you”. “I could spend all day gazing at those big hazel eyes of yours”.  This let a tear of joy roll down Natasha's cheeks. Steve gave her a warm hug to comfort her.

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A song comes to mind, oh so familiar. a song about a siren, Lady Lorelei. She had thrown herself into the Rhine River from the heartbreak of an unfaithful lover.

I’m laughing, crying, and dancing and dying, darling,

Love is not always calm waters, and these changing tides are what make it interesting.

trying to get to a place where I cannot think.

Is reason so important in the matters of the heart? Why do we hesitate? fear?

Cuz orangewine’s been stuck on my mind, now, lately, so I’ll drown it with a different drink.

We associate the feeling of falling in love with butterflies in the stomach, but I think it feels more like drowning in a thick syrup.

Forgetting’s getting all in vogue,

I can't seem to keep my mind off her, I probably should pay attention in class.

so tomorrow our todays will die, still, hold me in a moment that’ll soon cease to be,

How far we go for the pursuits of our love, these extremities, and yet we have so little doubt in them sometimes.

Siren sweet, oh lady lorelei.

Recess has come, it’s too late, I'm already grinning like a fool as I run over to her. I only hope not to suffer the same fate as the men she drowns.

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The silence around me used to be so calming. Nowadays, no matter how quiet it was, I was never at peace. My thoughts were too loud. The gentle warmth of the setting sun felt like fire on my skin. My senses were on overdrive, I was overwhelmed. The pink skies I used to love so much loomed over me, but I couldn’t see them anymore. I wouldn’t ever see them anymore.

I thought back when I first found out that I had cancer, that I was losing my vision, and in turn, the only thing that ever brought me peace. I wasn’t scared of dying. After 30 years in the same deadbeat town I knew I had died a long time ago. But I was scared of losing my sunsets. The same sunsets that got me through the darkest times of my miserable life. When I got kicked out of school, when my mom died, when I lost my job. The sunsets healed me, in a way. It took away the pain for a while. Made life just a little bit more bearable. And soon, it’ll all be gone.

I knew I had one last chance to feel alive again. So I ran. I ran out of the doctor’s office to the only place where I could find comfort. It was a little hill by the quieter part of town. It wasn’t beautiful, the grass was dry and the flowers were wilting. But there was one thing that made this little hill so special: the view of the sunset atop the quiet little town that I’ve called home since forever.

I sat by the edge of the hill, silent tears rolling down my face as I watched the warmth of orange and pink skies slowly get enveloped by the darkness.  The breeze brushed against my skin ever so gently, almost as it was trying to console me. The soft clouds danced in the sky so slowly, almost elegantly, putting me in a trance. The beauty of it all made me forget that I was losing my vision, that this was probably the last time I’d get to experience a sunset in all its glory. At that moment I was at peace. I felt more alive than I’d ever felt before I was dying. I took it all in and I held on to it. In that moment nothing else mattered. In that moment, I was okay.