Sometimes I wonder why we still hold on to this.

It’s 8.45pm.
I’m on the train; just my MP3 and me.
I’m listening to Yong Gan by A*Mei, and I subconsciously begin to imagine a little scene.


You and I are fighting, at that little playground I cried at when I had that dream of you dying, and it’s around the same time at night too.
I’m crying, you’re shouting like a drunk husband. You push me away when I say sorry; I fall to the floor. Normally that would make you rush over to me to see if I’m okay, but this time you just turn away and kick the wall in frustration.

I run up to you again when I’ve recovered from my fall. I plead for you to forgive me, because it’s my fault; it always is my fault. I hug you tight. Usually when you’re angry at me you would just stand still and let me hug you, or at most shrug away, but this time you break my hug forcefully and shout at me. I can’t hear what you said. I am crying too hard; your shouts sound a bit like my wails.

And you push me away, but not too hard for me to fall, just enough to make me trip and stumble. And I just stand there crying for a long time.

And then I wake up to my senses. Why am I always doing this?
Where’s my sense of pride?

So I try my best to reduce my wail to a whimper, and stomp away like a kid who’s throwing a tantrum; I don’t know what to do. I know I can’t live without you, but I’m so tired of all this.

And then I see you turn around and squat down and cry for a while with your head between your knees.

And then you stand up and run to me, and hug me tight, crying. And I stand there for a while, not knowing how I should react, but already knowing that I’ve completely forgiven and forgotten, and I know what will happen after this.

And then just as I expected, my heart becomes yours again.