Sometimes it’s not the actual content, it’s just the gesture that matters.

It probably meant nothing to you, but I am grateful you picked up my call. To hear the beeping, and to feel my heart thumping at my throat, not sure whether or not you'd pick up.. I can tell you I was almost on my knees when I heard your voice on the other end.

I didn't need you to rush over to my aid (which I know is far too much to expect), or to conjure some miracle spell to fix my woes. What I really needed was to just have you pick up that call, and speak to me for a few minutes. And you did that.

 

Thank you.

To have and to hold

A place where you belong, where you look forward to going at the end of the day.

It doesn't matter if there isn't any hot cocoa

Or the décor is less than optimal.

It matters not that there isn't soft music in the background

Because all that matters is that you belong there.

The shower may be icy cold

The bread might be a little stale.

But you have that spot you long for

That spot that curves around your body just right.

If you're lucky, the fridge is always stocked with ice cream

Chocolate milk, Sandwich meats, cheese of various kinds.

But if you're luckier there's someone there

Who you could share it all with

Curled up in that corner you oh so love.

You know where everything is

You know the best spots to lie in

You know each creak of the floor

Each tick tock of all the rooms' clocks.

You belong there.

You move and breathe with ease

Even if the air is a little dank

The pests are always present, but you already know them best.

You belong there.

 

 

 

I wish I had somewhere I belong.

A Part of Me Just Died

It should be none of my business; and I really shouldn't care. I wish I could look the other way, or be the better person and say that I am happy for you.

 

But I'm not.

 

I thought I had let go. I thought I had moved on. I thought that time had healed my wounds, and that I would be able to be happy for you.

 

But I'm not.

 

I still feel the cold shot run to my feet, rendering them numb. I still feel my heart thumping faster. I still feel the need to search out "Who is she?" "Is she better than me?" "Is she smarter than me?" "Is she prettier than me?" "Does she make you laugh?" "Does she make you smile?" "Does she make your toes tingle when you think of her for a while?"

 

I am insecure. I am out of line. I have forgotten my place.

 

But I know that even if the answer to all those questions are "No"…I will always be the one you made excuses against. The one unworthy of you. The one you placed on permanent hold. Perhaps now you've found the one who makes you feel like everything is in place right away. I can't fault you for that.

 

It just still hurts, that's all.

You who opened the box.

Ring Ring

*picks up*

"May I speak to Mr. Jeffrey?"

"You have the wrong number"

"Ok, sorry."

 

A few minutes pass

Ring Ring

*picks up*

"May I speak to Mr. Jeffrey?"

"Nope, still the wrong number"

"Ok, sorry."

 

The next day

Ring Ring

*picks up*

"May I speak to Mr. Jeffrey?"

"No, Can't you hear I'm a woman here?"

"Ok, sorry."

 

A few minutes pass

Ring Ring

*picks up*

"May I speak to Mr. Jeffrey?"

"No, this is not Mr. Jeffrey!" *irritated*

"Is this the number xxx-xxxx?"

"Yes, but it's still not Mr. Jeffrey, no matter how many times you call!"

"Ok, sorry."

 

This goes on for several days and I've finally had enough. Today, on my day off, this woman wakes me up with yet another call. On my off day!! So I decide to have a bit of fun.

Ring Ring

*picks up*

"May I speak to Mr. Jeffrey?"

(with a perfectly unmasked female nasally voice) "Yes, this is Mr. Jeffrey."

"Err…you're Mr. Jeffrey?"

"Well, you dialed my number, and I picked up. So I must be Mr. Jeffrey."

"Are you sure?"

"Ahhhh yes….it comes to me now. I am Mr. Jeffrey"

(clears her throat and begins her mantra "Ok, Mr. Jeffrey, I'm calling from ***** (government agency). Will you please clarify why I am calling you?"

"Oh? But you called me…you should tell me why you're calling."

"Well, if you were Mr. Jeffrey, you would know"

"Well, you called me. I think you are the one who should tell me."

"Well I was just told to call Mr. Jeffrey. If you aren't Mr. Jeffrey, why would you ask me to call you?"

"Ahhhh….now it comes to me. Yes, I, Mr. Jeffrey, called to ask you out!! On a date. Ahhh, now I remember."

 

*hangs up*

 

 

Why is she the one who's pissed off?

 

At any rate, I'm almost hoping she'll call again.

 

 

 

What makes you feel beautiful....

 

 

 

 

He said he didn't draw a fierce lion, for he did not want to scare me. But the lion will protect me nonetheless, because it is, after all, a lion.

 

 

 

 

 

He was a wild one; couldn't follow a set of instructions if his life depended on it.

 He rolled, tussled, and even chest bumped with the greater beasts. He’s fearless. He ran headfirst into any chance of facing danger. As powerful as a titan.

 

One day, we were looking through a book, and I asked him to read which part of the story told him about the picture. He looked up and asked if he could draw the lion in the book. I told him that no one was forcing him to; but if he wanted, he could draw me a nice lion and I should like that. I told him to write at the back that it was meant for me; I even gave him the spelling of my name in case he didn’t know.

9 year old boys usually scream and gag at the thought of doing that for the opposite gender. This one, just nodded his head and took down my name. The next time I saw him, he carefully unfolded his masterpiece and presented it to me.

*the heart, is melt*

It’s these small things that make a terrible day suddenly seem 10,000 times brighter. I was up to my eyes in mucous and coughing out all the disgusting things in the world short of a cat’s hairball, and was in no condition to be with the young beasts. But I felt a sense of duty towards them, and today, this lion made my day.

 

 



Don’t I have a nice smile?

    I have a dream. I dream of a world where my smiles are welcomed, accepted, and people just smile back. I dream that someday, I will live in a world where people will no longer ask me "What do you want?" or "What have you done?" or quickly search behind their backs and rummage through their bags when I smile at them. I dream of a world where no one runs away from me the moment the ends of my mouth curl up and my eyes light up.

Can’t stop thinking of it.

So you were decked out in this tuxedo….yes, TUXEDO. You're speaking into a microphone up on the trapeze; declaring your great love for me. You dive from the platform, spread out your arms as you gracefully bounce onto a large inflated pillow about 50 feet down. Then, I ate small tangerines behind a shopping cart while you comforted me and told me to be nice to your mother.

 

 

Man…dreams are weird.

Occupational hazzard

The manager insists we smile and say welcome greetings each time a customer walks in and to say "Thank you, come again" when anyone leaves. Even when we're not the ones serving that particular customer, we just have to say it. Needless to say it became a habit. One time, I was at this fancy restaurant with a previous employer (non-retail) and as I was leaving, I looked the maitre 'd straight in the eyes, that glossy see-through type, the plastic grin I was so programmed into giving, and clear resounding tone "Thank you, come again!"

Needless to say, the maitre 'd was puzzled, I was mortified.

Two years later, I still find myself suddenly forgetting myself, thanking people in the elevator (who did nothing but accompany me in the harrowing journey in the elevator itself, not even help me push the button) as I exited. One fella was so embarrassed he blushed and muttered "err... hi"

Now that I'm in a totally different profession, I find that there are still so many occupational habits I just can't shake off easily after-hours.

Oh well, luckily it's not very harmful. I think.