The One Who Left Me Cold.
When I was 17, I went to Hospital Kuala Lumpur to study. It was my first taste of freedom, breaking out from my cocoon. I rented a room in a questionable shoplot nearby. He lived on my floor, and we smiled whenever we bumped into each other.
He was good-looking with curls in his hair and sparkling, mischievous eyes.
One night after about two weeks of my moving in, he knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to have dinner. We rode on his motorcycle, and I was dizzy with excitement, experiencing a new city with a handsome stranger. I was wearing my Marilyn Manson tee.
That night, I learned that he was exactly 10 years older than me and his birthday was on 22nd December, just a day before mine. He hid his shoes in my room while he laid on my bed for a few hours that night, and before daylight came, he had gone despite my protests.
Drunk with all the kisses and touches he gave me, I could barely contain my excitement to see him again. The next day, he was gone - his room door was open and it was empty. There was someone new moving in. He had left the city because his contract at the hospital was done.
He did not once mention this to me.
I think, for the very first time, my poor young heart broke that day. I would never see or hear from him again.
That very night, I sat on my bed and penned a song in minutes, pouring my heart out - very juvenile and naïve, but it comforted me. (And many, many years later, that very same song would play on local radio, and I got to perform it live on a stage shared with local and international recording artists.)
If he only knew.
I started growing up that day - it was only so devastating because it was so beautiful. It's funny to think that he is somewhere not that far out there, 46 years old - does he ever think back to 20 years ago?
He was good-looking with curls in his hair and sparkling, mischievous eyes.
One night after about two weeks of my moving in, he knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to have dinner. We rode on his motorcycle, and I was dizzy with excitement, experiencing a new city with a handsome stranger. I was wearing my Marilyn Manson tee.
That night, I learned that he was exactly 10 years older than me and his birthday was on 22nd December, just a day before mine. He hid his shoes in my room while he laid on my bed for a few hours that night, and before daylight came, he had gone despite my protests.
Drunk with all the kisses and touches he gave me, I could barely contain my excitement to see him again. The next day, he was gone - his room door was open and it was empty. There was someone new moving in. He had left the city because his contract at the hospital was done.
He did not once mention this to me.
I think, for the very first time, my poor young heart broke that day. I would never see or hear from him again.
That very night, I sat on my bed and penned a song in minutes, pouring my heart out - very juvenile and naïve, but it comforted me. (And many, many years later, that very same song would play on local radio, and I got to perform it live on a stage shared with local and international recording artists.)
If he only knew.
I started growing up that day - it was only so devastating because it was so beautiful. It's funny to think that he is somewhere not that far out there, 46 years old - does he ever think back to 20 years ago?