Oh I really should have known by the time you drove me home, By the vagueness in your eyes, your casual good-byes. By the chill in your embrace and the expression on your face, That told me maybe you might have some advice to give … On how to be… Insensitive.
I saw you waiting for me at the usual spot, in front of the bus stop, smoking a stick. We didn’t even greet one another when we met. You just flicked off your ciggie and went to your seat, and I hopped onto your van for the last ride to school. To be exact, my secondary school.
The ride seems like an eternity, but at every turn and stop, I worry that it would be over – ‘Cause instinctively I seems to know, this would be the last time I am going to hitch a ride from you. We didn’t even say a word to each other throughout the journey. Seems like we had a bad argument and everything we once had would probably be blown away with it too.
Please, don’t let this be the last ride.
I tried to glance over and capture your looks for the last time, but I didn’t had the courage to. Even at that very moment, I still had a very fuzzy impression of you. I loved you dearly, but I can’t recall how you looked like to me.
After all those inner struggles within me, we finally reached my school. You reversed and parked you van between some blocks of HDB instead of dropping me off at the school porch. Seems like you’ll be walking me in instead of just dropping me off and drive off just like that.
After walking for a distance, you suggested, “Why don’t we go for breakfast?” I agreed, so we made a detour and walked down to Serangoon Central.
What you said broke the ice between us. But it was the sudden morning downpour that brought us even closer. When heavy droplets of rain poured down unexpectedly, you unconsciously grabbed my hand and quickly flagged down a passing cab.
Once in, I reached over to the back of the cab and pulled out some sheets of tissues from the box, and I went on to wipe the rain off your left arm. The same smooth, fair arms I always hold on to.
Your left hand found its way to my right hand, and we locked fingers. I looked up to you… and then…
The sweltering mid noon heat woke me up.
Oh you probably won’t remember me, it’s probably ancient history, I’m one of the chosen few who went ahead and fell for you. I’m out of vogue, I’m out of touch, I fell too fast, I feel too much. I thought that you might have some advice to give … On how to be … Insensitive. Jann Arden - Sensitive
I don’t need to see you again. You’re perfect. That’s how you are like in my memory. That’s enough, isn’t it?
I don’t give a shit bout what does this dream means, but it reminiscent how it was like being with you. I knew I will lose you any moment, and then I eventually lost you.
I hope you’ll have a great day for this coming Friday.
Happy 27th Birthday, Chris.
