It was just moments ago before I leave the hotel room to Incheon, that I weigh myself on the scale. I gained another 5kg of weight. It was nothing unusual, really.

Come every December, it seems to be the month where I gain some weight. Perhaps due to the kinda depression that I have to go through, or perhaps it was due to the holiday and year end. I would like to think that it was because of the holiday, but deep inside, I know it was because I miss The Boy.

I have to admit, I tend to eat a lot when I am down and depressed. Depression has seem to be the every day of my life now. I could try not to think of it by trying to do something productive. It doesn’t last long before my mind start wandering again; yes I can’t seem to concentrate on doing something that I want to do.

As my iPod plays my favourite songs, that one song that me and The Boy liked started playing. I remember myself putting that song into a playlist that strictly labelled as “Do not play this play list, you dumb arse” but it never seem to work, not how I want to, anyways.

I finally made it there, I thought I had made a clean getaway; I met someone whom I thought we share the same mutual affections, the same someone that would give me that warm tender love that I would give the same. I miss you, I miss you every single day.

I thought I was strong, strong enough to beat that urge not to let that drop of tear escape. At 40,000 feet above sea level, it is quite impossible to get out from here.

I should have seen it coming. That thought of you going out with someone sends the shivers down the spine. It was back to the days before we part our ways that I still remember vividly. That day where you told me what had happened the previous night. I was furious; how can I not be?

It still hurts me the day when you started to ignore my calls. It still hurts me that you had agree to go along with another guy. What happened to our mutual agreement that we would be together? What had happened so badly that you had to put away everything that we build so hard?

It saddens me even more that the other guy did not trust you enough to let you stay alone at his home. It saddens me that you had to run off to hiding whenever there is a raid to his premise. It saddens me that you have to sit at his work place waiting for him to go along with whatever illegal business that he is doing.

What sadden me most is despite all that, you still choose to be with him.

Were you really that desperate to make that loud statement to me that you had somewhat found someone better in your life? How long did that last you? Three weeks?

I have known you enough that you would not have gone more than a month with that guy. What can he provide you that I could not? I simply just could not understand.

I was angry, and I have every right to be by the way you treated me.

You were angry too, and you have all the rights to be.

But what had happened could have been easily fixed if we were to give in. We did, and it seemed to work, for whatever reasons there was.

I never had the intention to lock you down to my side. I was afraid of losing you, I was afraid of you getting hurt. You in turn, prefer to be left out in the wild. I am not a control freak, I never intend to be, but look at what had happen after that?

The memories seems to fade away, slowly.

“Are you okay, sir.”

The flight attendant were a little concern.

For a moment, I thought it was The Boy. I must have doze off shortly after take off.

“We are crossing the Pacific Ocean,” claimed the flight attendant, with a very heavy Korean accent.

“Could I offer you another drink, sir?” he continues.

“Sure, something alcoholic, please.” I stressed.

“Wine okay for you sir?”

“Ne, kamsamnida.” I thank him in Korean, a simple word that I picked up while in Korea

He smiled back.

I closed the lid of my Macbook Pro, gazing outside of the tiny air craft window, with clouds swiftly passing by from underneath of the plane. I thought I see ships as small as ants, and my thoughts slowly drifted away again.

I have tried so hard to fill that emptiness, that I have forgot sometimes who I am. All I had wanted was you to hold on to, something that I could hold on in return. Was it that hard to be yourself that you be someone else?

Just a day before, I was having the dream. The same dream that I have every time I dream of you. We were blowing the candles off your birthday cake. It was a chocolate cake, the one that you like, with tiny bits of blueberries and strawberries on top. I had purposely gotten it imported because the local ones are just not good enough. I was holding your hand together and we closed our eyes to make that wish.

When I opened my eyes, I felt the emptiness. The kind where I know that you are no longer with me.

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Christmas is supposed to be a happy thing, a joyful thing.

Ever since the breakup with The Boy, Christmas has never been the same.

Merry Christmas to all, and especially to you, my boy.

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I know I normally do not post videos, but there is always the first time in doing anything.

I can safely say that this song has been my companion ever since our break up.

I was introduced to the song by The Boy, he was having his bad day one day while I was with him, and he kept on playing the song again and again. He told me that he could listen to the same song all day long, and not get bored of it. Tears and emotion filled his eyes when he said that.

I guess, he might be missing someone.

The thing about The Boy is, he had kept his past love life a secret. I had no idea how many boy friends he had, or was it good or not.

They say that when a relationship ends for whatever reason, there are there are some left over ‘garbage’ that needs to be cleared off; else those ‘garbage’ will be a major barrier to having a successful future relationships.

I haven heard from him for at least a couple hundred days. Okay fine, almost a whole year and a half. Still, I don’t mind hearing his voice. Problem is, will I be emotional and break down and cry? Or will I be normal; sad bu normal?

After reading the article, Healing From Past Relationships I felt it was quite true that perhaps I could not let it go is because there are still the ‘garbage’ inside me that I have not sorted out.

Question is, would I want to let go? Faces all around me, they don’t smile but they just crack. Waiting for the ship, but the ship is not coming back. Given something to believe, I think I can overcome The Boy. I think I can, I believe I can.

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I could not sleep this morning until 4 am. The bright moon light from the New York’s cityscape peeking through my window on my face.

I tried very hard to fall asleep.

The thought of us together got me awake. Ever since you found yourself in someone else’s arms, I have been thinking about you day and night.

It rained today. Not too heavy, but just rained.

I went out to the street, hopefully to get my mind off things for a moment.

I caught Chris online. I must say that I am glad I have someone that lives almost the same timezone as me. Being 12 hours behind everyone that I know sometimes is not a good thing for me, especially when I needed someone badly to chat with.

One mistake I make prior coming to New York.

When I was with the boy, we had our plans to move to New York. Study, and working together.

We even traveled to New York together to look at how the things are, to see if we could get used to our surroundings. We looked for a uni, a place to stay. While we were walking one day during our holiday, we saw this place that is up for sale. It is a quiet neighborhood, and we quite like the surroundings. We manage to contact the owner, and the owner was kind enough to meet us up on that day itself.

When we entered the place, I felt immediately like home. Located at the Upper West Side, it has windows overviewing Central Park. With private pool, we immediately fell in love with the place. Unlike condos or apartments, the loft has got no rooms, but rather a huge space where we can separate the rooms by ourselves. The scene of Queer as Folk immediately triggered both of our senses, and we totally forgot that the owner were actually waiting for us.

Dinner time that night was all about The Loft that we saw. We were visualizing how we would decorate the place, where we would put the bed, where will we put the LCD TV, the PS3, the kitchen and etc.

The next day itself, we spoken with the owner again, this time, I had paid a sum of USD5000 upfront as a deposit.

I was preparing for my university that is starting in a couple more days. A white envelope slipped and dropped to the floor of the loft.

When we were having our visit to New York, we had enrolled ourselves to one of the varsity here. When we broke up a year ago, the boy returned me the envelope together with the varsity’s offer letter. I must have slipped it in between my school documents, and now the memories of us being together is haunting me.

I had tried my best to design and decorate The Loft as per how the boy had wanted it. Maybe, I had a thought that maybe some day the boy would come back. For the past few nights after I have arrived here, I imaged myself cooking at the kitchen for The Boy. Both of us would be happy feasting on the meal that we had prepare, and perhaps a sip of wine looking over Central Park.

Maybe the idea of me wanting to continue to New York was a big mistake. Maybe I thought it is the only memory that I could savage from our sad sob relationship.

Maybe I had not wanted to savage the relationship at all. The things that had been going through my mind at that time when I had argued with The Boy. The things that I have done that would have hurt his feelings. They say, you will not appreciate something until you lose it. I guess, it is true to an extend.

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It was a prank that I have pulled that went seriously wrong.

At first, I thought I wanted to see his reaction on how he would see things. Now, I guess I have to change my point of view to a whole new perspective.

I could not sleep last night. Penning my last entry I was already exhausted, perhaps with what has been going on for the past few months, perhaps with what has been going on lately. I tried to slot in hints on my Facebook, hints that I wasn’t ready for a long distance relationship. I am a ‘closeted’ person. Closeted not that I am not out, but a rather, I prefer to be close to someone, the be able to hug the person, to kiss the person, and in return to be loved.

I hug my friends, I sometime kisses my friends. Often I am not careful when I am doing this, and many would think I am actually hitting on them. My preferences of liking another person of the same sex doesn’t make them get comfortable with me, some even prefer to stay away from me, as far as they can.

Why? I wonder sometimes why would I rather ‘choose’ to be a gay boy than choosing to be a straight and live a ‘normal’ life. What actually determine that being straight is actually normal, and being gay isn’t? People keep on telling me that being gay is just a choice, being gay is just a person being disobedient towards God, but really?

People get envious of me, they start to call me names. It’s fine really. They start to accuse me of things that I have not done, they started to think I am another person, a ‘faker’ because I had done a lot to help that person. Why is that that it is so hard to believe?

I went to the Tsukiji Fish Market, in the futile attempt to exhaust myself so that I could rest, and prepare the flight to Singapore. I failed, miserably.

Looking at the tuna’s, the salmon and the fishes reminds me of the boy. Do not even try to ask me how or why, but if I had the guts to, I would have break down and cry right smack center of the fish market.

The hussle and bussle of the fish market throw me into deeper thoughts. In the midst of the fishermen, the midst of the trader, there stand a boy, three thousand miles away from home.

For what?

Just because he had wanted a chance to be alone, to try that feeling of being lonely, to get away and forget that selective memory, and hopefully keep the good ones intact.

Again, it failed miserably.

Asking myself, WHY did God had created human, and yet putting them into relationship stress like this. Would it not be a wonderful world if the humans have a manual for relationships?

I started to think again by myself, how should I be surviving the rest of my life. Should all these be just a temporary hindrance? Just an obstacle in life?

“Daijobu desu ka? Daijobu desu ka? Are you okay?”

The voice of a young Japanese boy awaken me from my thoughts. I must have been standing there for a very long time judging from the lesser about of people walking past me.

“Daijobu desu ka?”

The boy asked me again.

“Daijobu, domo”

I replied.

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That was what he told me when I first showed him the boy’s picture over the Internet. I had slowly gotten over the whole break-up thing, but I wasn’t still sure that I have put the boy aside, and continue with what is going on what is in front of me.

I supposed I cannot forget the fact that I can easily fall in love, even back in my heart, I still think about the boy, all the time.

It was a guy that I have known for a very long time, residing in the state of Johore. We had not spoken for a very long time, until some form of incident that bought us together. We got pretty close chatting online recently and had decided to meet up.

“Hey, lets go for a movie or something, we can go after school, if that is alright with you. How about Time Square, it’s convenient for both of us, right?”

Indeed, we met up that day, and my heart melted looking at the charming boy standing in front of me. It was that time that David sent him a sms, saying that he would be coming over to KL. David, the name reminds me of something, someone that I had really adore and cared for back in the days. David oh David.

Harry gave David my mobile so that David could contact me to arrange a meet up when he gets to KL.

Harry came over to my house that day.

“Hey, your ex seriously looks like David. Seriously!”

Harry was commenting about the pictures that I had sitting on my desk, the pictures that I always stared at mesmerized about the boy; the pictures that I often look at, and then say hi to Mr Tears. The pictures that will always remind me of the sweet memories between me and the boy, our love, our passion, and hatred.

At some point of time, I fell in love with David already. Without looking at his pictures, without knowing much about him.

At the same time, I felt disgusted.

The mixed feelings were actually in fact that David is a sexually deprived person. Now, perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing for me, because as horny as a boy can be, the better for the relationship because sex is going to be abundant and if not, fulfilling. I wasn’t sure but I guess I wasn’t ready to accept the fact that David might have been ‘fucking’ around, I mean, what else can a hormone charged teenager do, in a small town in Johore, if not looking for sex all the time, everywhere?

Harry told me that he did it with David before. Twice or thrice, but that wasn’t the point. The point is that David just want it in, with pleasure. I guess, like they say, sex is always fun, and fulfilling if you are going to have it with someone that you like, or cared about. By the way, perhaps it was one of the times where I fell in love with Harry even more.

Something went wrong in our exchange of text messages. David suddenly told me that he would not want to continue to talk to me. I did in fact told David that I dislike certain things that most gay people do, the ‘height & weight’ interrogation. He got so pissed off perhaps with my bad choice of words, he scolded me, and called me crazy.

There and then, my heart felt like sinking to the depths of Titanic. It hit the ocean floor so hard, waves and waves of tears came attacking that already gloomy night as aftershocks.

I text Harry, I said, never had I felt so in love with someone that I have not met, someone that I might not want to fuck, and someone that is as charming as David.

I don’t know at which point, but Harry asked me to let it go, perhaps try it another time, perhaps never.

My heart still imprisoned in the bottom of the cold dark ocean.

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It was love at first sight, for me and the boy. We were officially dating since day one when we met, and I could easily say that we seems like have know each other since our past life. The boy was perfect, articulate, charming, and the sex was amazing.

Late one night, I popped my fantasies to the boy. I had always wanted to have a threesome sex.

Perhaps it is a couple’s way to spice up the love life.

I thought it would be hot to see someone else sucking off the boy. I could not bear to see the boy being fucked by another person.

The boy kind of accepted the idea of a threesome, we did not really went try get it sorted, but rather, shove it up the shelf for that time being.

One day, I involved myself ‘guest starring’ in a threesome.

It was then that I realized that threesome might not be my thing. You see, which I like the guy that I was fucking, when he got fucked by another person, it felt weird. I was looking at him straight being humped by another person, strong and hard, right up in the ass, doggy style.

I tried to make it erotic, and start to jerk myself. I can’t.

Somewhat, that feeling irks me out.

Everywhere we go, we see things in three. Tall, grande, venti. Low fat, non fat, and full cream. Can we really live with threesome in our relationship?

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I love cold countries, perhaps that is why I have decided to stop by Alaska during my 5 months long holiday adventure.

From day one when I arrived at Alaska, I enjoyed it all the way until the end of the trip. Dad was nice to have booked a snow sledge with huskies pulling it. The huskies are so beautiful, their eyes are glowing in the hue of blues. For a moment there, I forgot the reason why I have left Malaysia for such a long period, and went for a holiday.

The adventure did not stop there.

I had arranged for a porter to climb with me to one of the glaciers. It is not that I am lazy and living that luxurious life that I would want people to carry my bags for me, but if you were in the glaciers, you really have to be prepared. In fact, I think that I had not bring enough food!

The porter that I had hired was not available last minute when I wanted him. He sent his younger brother instead. I was a little skeptical when the porter came to speak to me. I can’t see his face properly, he was was covered up and only exposing the bright blue eyes of his. He sounds like someone whose age not older than me by a decade. How much experience could a young porter like him has? I was skeptical, indeed.

I pack up a few gears, totally forgot that I would be hiking on ice and show. I naively packed my non-water proved warm weather shoes. After I took the picture, only I realized that it would not work. I switched a pair with sole covers, and water proved pants too.

Armed with a pair of water proof shoes, couple with the shoe spikes, I was ready to walk the icy mountains. Not before I arm the shoes with the spikes to enable us to walk on ice.

While the porter were preparing his gears, I noticed his shoes were covered with screws. I guess, it was great for tractions.

Back to the porter.

I did not realized that he is about the same age as me, not before he started to talk to me. He sounded young, like very young.

It was during one of the pit stop that we had on our rest that he took off the scarfs that was hiding his face. Revealing underneath the scarfs was a pair of shinny blue eyes, and a flawless complexion. Immediately I felt that I have known him for the longest time. His name is Michael.

We rested and build our tent at base camp. It was already noon and it would be suicidal if we continue our journey as there will be no spots for us to build our tent before the night falls.

There wasn’t many group of people at base camp. We build our tent almost by the edge of the spot where we had more privacy than the ‘hot spots’.

The night was extremely cold. It was so cold that I had to put on extra jacket. Middle of the night, Michael turned over and hugged me. I hugged back, and I could feel his body warmth compliment with mine. His breath was blowing towards my face. Under the dim moon light that managed to penetrate over the tent, I could see his moist lips, waiting for me to kiss it. We slept throughout the night without any incident.

It was 5 am. I woke up with my hand on the boy’s crotch. I did not know how it got there, but we were sleeping in the same sleeping bag. I or he must have snuggle in for the warmth.

My watch said it was 6am, but I always manage to mess up my alarm clock. I freaked out because I really thought it was 6 am, checked the other clock, and it says 5 am.

Went out to wash up. Michael had already got up, making coffee and getting ready for the hike.

It was still dark. The snow is 5000 feet right now, in case you are curious.

The base camp seems to came alive again. People are starting to get ready and getting to get to the top.

We pack up and got ready ourself. I helped Michael to break camp, and we started the hike up. We took a different route where Michael claimed that it is more scenic than the others. He did say it was more tougher, which I agree that we can try.

As we walk on the ice and snow, I still can see the stars twinkling high above. It was clear sky, even before the sun peeked through the mountains. We reached one of the scenic spot where I got this picture. It was fantastic, just me and Michael, alone and surrounded by nature.

Throughout the week, me and Michael shared a lot of our life stories. I found out that Michael just broke up with his boy friend, and that I looked a little like him. I told him about mine, and we instantly became good buddies. He would also story about horny Americans asking him to jerk off for them and such, of course, the innocent Michael did not do it. He did hinted to me that he would not mind jerking me off.

One of the nights, where the weather was a little warmer than usual, we strip off our pants, in the tent, and both of us had the best orgasm ever.

Nuff said, here are some pictures.

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I would want to blame it on the different time zones, they call it jet lagged. Yes, I have been living on a jet setter’s lifestyle since late November. It was fun, to be able to travel all around, meeting different people before I start myself in Uni in May.

But that is not the point, the point is, I wanted to stay away from my home in Kuala Lumpur. I had wanted to do this for a very long time, trying to see if I could forget the boy. The truth is, I can’t. On the boy’s birthday last year, while I was in Brazil, I gave the boy a call to wish him a happy birthday. I mean, it would only be appropriate if I do that, at least, I thought it that way.

Not only was I wrong about the whole thing, I still ended up crying at night, hugging a pillow, that I was well aware that it would not hug me back.

It was Chinese New Year. I remembered last year’s pretty well. I was in hometown, and could not let myself not missing the boy. We practically texted each other the whole day. I had to run around the house because the house was surrounded by hills, and Maxis coverage wasn’t that great, then I found the perfect spot, the store room.

Sweating and sneezing, I embraced myself, just for the sake of not wanting to miss his text messages. Silly, I know. That’s what we all do for love, no?

Deep inside, back to reality, I thought I could forget him if I leave my room, leave everything behind and move somewhere else. I could not move to Singapore because that was our initial plan. We both continue our studies in Singapore.

Singapore will bring back the memories, I would definitely sure about it. Then, during my vacation, I cried, and cried again, hugging the cold hotel pillows, streak of tears just fall down to my cheek, and to the bed.

I could not help it, they say I was being foolish for falling in love to a person that do not love me. Deep inside, I still believe that there is love, deep inside, I still believe that it was me that had caused the breakup, and it was be that had put our relationship into that fine thin line.

I could have salvage it, I just know I could.

It has been almost 9 months since we break up, and I am still here, hugging my pillow tight, hoping that it was the boy that I was hugging.

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Lyrics from I Can Feel A Hot One by Manchester Orchestra

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