Day One

If ever I was unsure of the idea of a long distance relationship, I think now would be the time to reaffirm my disbelief in it. I have so much trust in you, far more than I’ve ever had in myself and it’s been like this since the beginning. Our love is unwavering, we’ve put it to the test time and time again. Yet at this moment, I’ve got both my hands gripped so tightly around the cool steel poles of the barrier with two thoughts on my mind.

‘You’re coming’ and ‘you’re not coming’.

My head is a mess. A feeling I’m accustomed to yet never comfortable with. I think about the words that flew across the screen, asking, planning and deciding for you to come here. My mind puts together a rusty lie detector that runs its needle through our words, combing for what I cannot foresee. You don’t lie. You love. And that’s why you’re coming. You don’t lie. You love. And that’s why you’re coming. 

Every fibre in my body believes you. I have so much trust in you, far more than I’ve ever had in myself. You’ve packed your bags. You’ve printed out your ticket. You’ve gone to the lounge, lined up, and texted me every free moment. I believe every step. Except the one that says it’s all happening to me. 

Ten minutes have passed. You’ve yet to let me know if you’ve landed although the screen says you have. I call and I hear you but I snap at you because I’m nervous. My eyes are peeled now, drawing a dotted outline of the figure of you I remember onto the exit sliding door. And before I know it, you fill in the blank. And you get larger and larger as you approach but the pebble in my throat doesn’t go away no matter how many times I swallow. 

It doesn’t feel real until you’ve got your arms around me. And your smell fills my sensory systems with familiarity. My hand is in yours but I’m the one leading you back to the beginning.

Day Seven

Six days ago I had the the best birthday I can remember. My parents adored you, always curious and you always happy to oblige with answers. As such all wasn’t purely focused on me but for someone as selfish as myself to be able to say it, I’m so happy I got to share it with you.

Five days ago we had what you proclaimed to be the best chicken you’ve ever tasted. A popular hawker styled restaurant native to Malaysia is not where I ever thought I would have the opportunity to picture you in. I don’t think I could argue that comment about the chicken. You met my godparents and got along well with my godbrother.

Four days ago was reunion dinner. There was so much food on the table you didn’t know. And like a trooper you tried them all. It’s okay that you didn’t like most of them. I took lots of food for you, part to feed you, part so I could keep stealing glances in your direction, so I know you’re still real.

Three days ago was the first day of Chinese New Year. You wore red and I wore pale pink. We went with the whole Indonesian entourage to my grandmother’s place. The rest of the day we took luvos and watched Modern Family

Two days ago we went to meet my paternal grandparents. You went through the final rite of passage, and as much as you dirty-looked me, I will forever be so proud and so grateful to you for that. Later, you met my best friends, friends that I have had since I was eight years old. They have so much history of me that you don’t. But in conversation amongst the four of us, no one missed a beat.

One day ago passed just fifteen minutes earlier. I waited till you went down the escalator, till you lined up at immigration, till your last wave, till the reflection of your shoes in the shiny marble floor was long gone. I turn around, half expecting you to be standing there with arms open, to prove to me that you are real. You’re not there but it’s okay. I can wait a couple more weeks for you to show me.