It's a Hong Kong movie about handsome gangsters.
And this stirred up memories.
I have a story that I haven't told many people about.
Stanley my sex bunny friend, whom I've known longer than my partner J, knows this story very well.
"Why the heck are you bringing it up again?" Stanley wanted to know.
"Are you running out of topics for your blog? Just tell me -- I'll do overtime and sleep around more to inspire you," said Stanley who later added that he knew when he was young that being promiscuous would some day help mankind.
The story I'm about to share with you is something very personal. A memory that's been buried deep in my heart.
Stanley later told me that if I wanted to really bury a memory, the heart isn't where it should be kept.
"I know many other parts of the body which are so deep, it can keep a lot of things," he said.
The year was -- okay, I can't remember exactly which year it was. Let's just put the timeline as the late 90s.
It was just months before I did national service, so I was around 19 years old.
And it was also before I met Stanley and Carl.
Whom I did meet back then, was Mike.
And he's central to the story.
Mike is just a year younger than I.
We met in a gay chatroom and since I was single, we decided to meet.
But we were very innocent -- we didn't meet for any hanky panky.
In fact, our first meeting was at a café near Mike's house.
Mike and I are as different as night and day.
In a nutshell, we were from totally different worlds.
I was about to start NS, all geared up for what's to come: Uni life, great friends, lots of partying at bars. And then, maybe a good career and lots and lots of money.
For Mike, he was probably looking at just spending time behind bars -- the caged kind.
Mike, unlike any other gay boy I knew back then, was very different.
He was totally butch. You can't tell he's gay.
If you met Mike back then, you might avoid him.
He was a motorcycle riding gang member (his gang is linked to several temples, he told me) and his family background is complex: His dad is a secret society member and his mum dabbles in illegal gambling businesses.
Stanley, whom I shared the story with years later, was very excited because he always thought that a gangster who knew how to ride was very sexy.
Well, yes, Mike is sexy. And very cute too.
He had thick eyebrows, large puppy eyes, nice floppy hair like Aaron Kowk's, and although he had some belly fat, he was tall and big built and looked like he was willing to slash his parang at anyone who would bully me.
In short, Mike is a fearsome gangster to his friends, but deep in his closet, he's a wholesome gay boy.
I met Mike in that capacity -- the gay boy exploring his sexuality.
So I have never seen or feared him the way his ex-secondary school mates did.
He had scars on his body, and Mike has police records that started when he was 14.
Point is, Mike and I are totally different. Yes, I think I said that already.
Yet, I felt strangely attracted to Mike.
Our first date at the café near his house was rather fun.
We talked about ourselves, and learnt about each other.
He referred to me as the good boy and of course, admitted that he was a really bad boy.
When we ended our first date, I told myself that I did like Mike, but the logical side of me kept pushing back those nice feelings I felt for Mister Bad Boy.
But when Mike asked me for a second date days later, I readily said yes.
This time, we went to drink bubble tea.
And then came the third and fourth dates.
On our fifth date, Mike brought me to his home.
Nobody was home.
I took a quick glance around his flat and noticed there were three altars with ferocious-looking deities in the living room. Mike didn't take me on a tour of his home, because our destination was his bedroom.
On date number five, we finally got intimate. And let's just say that he was indeed young and dangerous.
After the deed, I thought maybe that would mark the end of our, hmm, would I say it's a relationship?
Because if Mike were to be treated as the gangster whom he is, and the player whom he looks to be, then after having sex with me, he would stop calling right?
Was I wrong.
After date number five, Mike seemed to be even softer and more caring.
He told me he liked me, and although we would both likely have very different paths ahead of us, he said he wanted us to give it a try.
"What's the problem. You like me, I like you. That's most important right?"
To be honest, I did like Mike very much.
I liked not just how cute and dashing he is, but also how gentle and caring he is to me.
On date number six, Mike told me to be prepared to spend an entire day with him.
That Saturday morning, he waited for me near my home.
He didn't ride his bike.
I thought, like some of our past dates, we'd hang out at some nearby café or mall.
But five minutes into our meeting, Mike smiled and then raised his hand to flag down a cab.
"Where are we going?"
No answer.
"Just come along -- you promised me your entire day," was the answer.
Of course, I found my answer as soon as we got into the cab: Changi Jetty.
Oh, that's new. I've never been there, I thought to myself.
On the one hand, I was very excited because this is a new adventure.
But damn it, on the other hand, a nagging voice in my head told me to STOP FEELING THIS WAY YOU FOOL... because if you enjoy this too much, you're gonna fall for him. What future do you have with this gangster? Sure, you and him can speak Chinese all day long. But when it's time for you to introduce Mike to your circle of friends, he will never fit in.
And so I went through the entire day with Mike with such a mindset, such a struggle.
I love this day, no I can't love this day. I like Mike, no I can't fall for him.
At Changi Jetty, it turns out that Mike had further plans for us.
And so to Pulau Ubin we went, laughing at every bump of the sea journey there.
We were to spend half the day at the island cycling and laughing and looking at strange insects, watching out for wild boars. Resting under a tree. And then cycling some more.
Nobody in my circle of friends would have come up with such a spontaneous, adventurous date.
Don't enjoy this day, Adam. Don't fall for him, Adam. He's a good date, he's a good fuck, he's not going to be a good boyfriend or husband. Don't look at him in his eyes. Don't melt when he smiles at you.
By late afternoon, after we returned our bikes, Mike and I took a stroll along Pulau Ubin.
He held my hand as we walked along the island.
I swear if he had proposed to me there and then, I might not have the logical mind to say no.
We then left for hawker food back on the mainland, where Mike ordered cockles among other things.
I remember because Mike lit up the whole time, his eyes sparking with joy as he sucked noisily on cockles while edging me on to try them 'cos they were his favourite food.
It was a most romantic day: Spontaneous, enjoyable, innocent and very puppy love-like.
That night, Mike sent me home and we rode the bus together.
He held my hand at the back of the bus.
He asked if I had a good time.
Of course I had.
To this date, it is one of the most romantic dates I had been on.
Then Mike popped the question.
"Will you be my boyfriend?" my handsome gangster asked.
To this day, I cannot imagine that as a hot-blooded 19 year old, I would allow my head to rule over my heart.
Though my heart had melted and that I really did like Mike, at the end of the day, the true boss was my head.
And my head told me to get real. To not be fooled by this exciting wave of romance.
He's not good for you. Not good enough. You're not going to be happy. You're from two totally different worlds.
I was telling myself all these thing which should rightfully have come out of the mouth of a concerned, uptight mother chiding her daughter.
That night, though it broke my heart, and most of all, Mike's, I let go of his hand on the bus, and told him: "Mike, let's just be friends."
Of course, I'm in a very happy, long-term relationship with my partner J now.
But I sometimes ask myself. If I could turn back time, would I have said yes to Mike? And what would become of us?
I don't know.
I don't have any regrets.
Perhaps, the only regret I have is that I did not allow myself to fully let go, and fully enjoy that entire day of Date Number Six with Mike. Our final date.
---------------------------
Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people
No comments:
Post a Comment