t h e i n t i m a t e s t r a n g e r

Cinderella’s shoe

without comments

Circa 1 April 2004….

“Do you believe in The One? Or do you believe that there are more than one The One out there just waiting for you to chance upon one (or even more than one) of them? Or is it that these few are only potentials, and that at any one time, there can be just The One – the way The Child of Light and The Child of Dark ‘moved’ from body to body, in David Eddings’ Belgariad? …… I don’t know if there is one, or two, or three, or more The One out there. I just know The One is someone so special, you don’t need to think it through from A to Z. He is the missing piece in the puzzle, and when you finally find him and receive this missing piece into your life, you will be complete.”

- Intimate Stranger. 2 August 2002.

Perhaps, there is really never more than one The One. Perhaps, we just get so tired of finding or waiting for him that we settle for the next best, and make believe that he is one of the few. Or, for some people, they simply do not believe The One exists.

SF likened it to finding The Right Shoe amongst the myriad possibilities. Sometimes, you find a pair with the design and colour you want, but not the size. Sometimes, you settle for an incredibly comfortable pair of pointy-toed shoes, even though the colour is not quite you, because you think this is the closest you will ever get to your checklist for The Right Shoe. And so, you stop looking, and you stop listening to the faint aches in your chest. Sometimes, a seemingly perfect pair of shoes could give you a callus which you choose to ignore, but you choose to put up with the vague discomfort, and soon, you do not even notice the thickened skin. (Everyone saw the calluses on my feet. Everyone. Except me.)

Someone said that believing in The One was a cop-out, because of our fear of making the wrong decision, of finding ourselves with The Wrong One. On the contrary, I believe it takes Courage to believe in The One. Because even if your paths cross, you might miss him if you do not have the faith to believe in yourself. And because, you might not even find him in this lifetime.

.

I walked towards the windows in the room she had called ‘home’ the last 3 years, drawn by the bright afternoon light streaming in, illuminating a path through the handful of scattered belongings she had returned to pack up and move to her new home.

Perhaps in the dusty recesses of my fuzzy memories, I remembered having stood at that window a few years ago and looked out at the lone privately-owned apartment in her backyard.

My eyes rested on the petals aglow in reds and yellows, hovering over the sparkling blue of the circular pool — just like in the picture I had googled after he told me where he used to live up until 5 years ago.

“What is that building over there?” I asked, after a moment’s hesitation.

“Oh, it’s some condo — Hibiscus Heights.”

Ah.

And more unspoken questions flooded my mind.

.

I realised during one of my idle moments when the mind wanders down drafty hallways and ventures into forgotten rooms, that they are the same age and share the same horoscope — except the first was born 19 days earlier within the same month (he of the misfired text message).

They even have a similar built and height, but the second works out and so is slightly more bulky than scrawny (heh). And both have that almost jaunty gait. But the second has stronger facial features, and dare I say it, such pretty eyes — eyes that I can’t stop looking into and will surely find myself drowning in soon enough. Yet, something in those eyes is strangely familiar — that same burning intensity that I remember from once upon a time, and had fled from (though for an entirely different reason)….

And like the first,  he likes his movies too, and we never seem to run out of things to talk about.

They call this chemistry, don’t they?

How strange this is all turning out to be….

Written by The Intimate Stranger

March 24th, 2011 at 1:22 am

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