What many do not realise is that Miyagi is also very good at writing love stories.
So I shall attempt to write a love story too.
Zapped!: Love Amongst the Photocopier Machines
Her lips said she didn’t want to see me anymore. But her eyes told me something else. I could tell from the way her pupils dilated, that her eyeballs were saying “Stay, please!”
Even the court order she took out on me was probably on impulse. Because I know she wanted me from Day One. The way I wanted her. We were two MRT trains passing each other in the night, exchanging passengers at Lovers Place Interchange.
I remember when we first met. She was photocopying notes at the Uni photocopying machines. I asked her if the one next to hers was taken, and she said, “Er, no.”
She had me at “Er, no”.
It was not the kind of thing you said to someone you had no feelings for. When you have seen unrequited love as many times as I have, you can tell the difference.
In the din of the photocopying machines photocopying, and the smell of ammonia invading every student’s nostrils and lungs, a love was born.
A love that was an original like the one on the platen glass of a copier, and not a copy that was spit out on the paper tray. A love that happened when two hearts were zapped with the Toner of Passion. A Double-sided love.
But even the greatest love story has its speed bumps. And ours was no different. She needed space.
Sure, I can understand. It was probably a little possessive of me to be following her home and everywhere on campus. Attending her lectures even though I was from a different faculty was also probably a little overwhelming for her.
And calling her handphone number, which I went through a lot of trouble to find, every ten minutes, was probably stifling her as a person.
But we were an item, dammit! We even went on a date!
Kind of a date. I followed her to the nearby MacDonald’s and sat at the table next to hers. And we had a lovely dinner under the same roof. Three burgers (I was hungry), two tables, one united soul.
I shall give her the space she wants tonight. I won’t even call her. That’s the kind of love we have. Where you don’t need to talk and yet you know what the other person is thinking. I shall be content to sleep with a photo I took of her back with my mobile phone, in the lecture theatre, when she was not looking.
She has such nice hair. Tomorrow I shall make her some soft toys. Two teddy bears. One will have a photo of her face on it. And the other one will have mine.
The court order never said I couldn’t give her gifts, right?
I kiss her photo and go to sleep. The course of True Love nair did run smooth.