Unfortunate Coincidences

Last summer, back on the Island, we sat in the humid outdoors of an old haunt, WJ and I, and talked for hours.

When we started reminiscing, I said, "I was a horrible person back then; I don't know how anybody could like me." Which is completely true. If the girl I am now had met the girl I was then, I would've told her what an utter fucker she is.

WJ smiled a little and said, "I liked you."

Finally. Right out of the horse's mouth - for a change.

I had friends telling me he liked me. Prolly three to four years after the fact. It was crazy, and I used to get exasperated about it.

But there we were, sitting outside the neighborhood kopi-tiam, him saying what I'd only heard from mutual friends before as casually and matter-of-factly as ordering another drink.

I don't remember what I said in reply to that unexpected piece of (old) information - I prolly changed the subject or something, as I am wont to when taken aback and couldn't get my act together fast enough; maybe I'd asked why and moved on without waiting for his answer.

Why would you tell the person you used to like after so many years? Why not just live and let live? I mean, what's the point?

I wouldn't tell the people I used to be infatuated with of that fact. Mainly because I'm a very, very private person, and also because I can't see the point in doing that. But ... I don't know - it's not a bad thing either, is it?

Maybe I'll try that someday - tell someone I used to like of it - what the heck. The worst thing they can say is only, "Did you? I used to like you then!" and we'd prolly rue the unfortunate coincidence of it all, and mourn a little for the lost opportunity.

But then again, as WJ had written in my autograph book eons ago, some people just "you3 yuan2 wu2 fen4".

Just like us two.