What the hell is a flying green song-rabbit?!

Grongbit (GReen sONG rabBIT) is the result of our nicknames combined. "Our" meaning the three founding authors. The flying comes from our guest-turned-permanent blogger, Butterfly Coffin.

And yes, rabbits can too fly, sing and be green.

Feel free to leave a comment!

Monday, July 27, 2009

Just Because

Because I'm afraid of it hurting unless I was typing this either drunk/fatigued/numb when I should've done it yesterday when it happened but no, I will not and I could not. After sending Mr. N off at the airport and saying our final farewells I noticed the lies in many romance films.

Firstly, there was no slow motion. Like when I saw him, it wasn't in slow motion nor was there music in the background. It was just life and the monotony of it surprised me (though it really shouldn't, I wasn't expecting anything).

Secondly, I wish it would slow the fuck down just a little bit because time kept ticking by so fast. I checked my phone so many times, counting down the minutes to when he had to go through the gates and disappear from sight.

Thirdly, there is little emotion. That would be my fault however. In my attempt to control the hysterical crying that might have ensued, I made sure that my mind was focusing on other things, that I was somewhat distracted. I didn't have to try very hard though because an overwhelming numbing feeling fell upon my entire being and I was enveloped in a hole of nothingness. I could still understand what was going on though and it still hurt. My shield isn't foolproof but it was easy to steady myself, breath deeply and calm down.

The world is funny.

I was the one holding luggage.

I couldn't say anything romantic or comforting or even sentimental. My last words that he heard come from me was, "Go, go!". I was pushing him to go in before my composure breaks, I don't want to be seen crying at the airport. I even broke my "no PDA" rule just this once, for this special occasion.

I can vaguely remember the tone of his voice and the way it broke on the second word.

I vaguely remember how much smoother and softer his skin was compared to mine, and how it made me resent guys who are prettier than girls more than I already did T_T

I have forgotten his scent, though I tried so hard to imprint it into memory.

All I have is Girlie Grey tea from T2 that filled the room with its aroma. I will forever drink Girlie Grey to relive those times.

I spent the rest of the day watching Juno, Slumdog Millionaire and Australia (reviews to come) before retiring to tear-stained pillows. Just because he's gone and I can sense the emptiness.

I am passed the peak now. Life has restarted (and so has uni for all of us) and things have settled down as it should be, as though it never happened.

The physical evidence seems to belong in another world.

No comments: