(originally posted on 5/26/11)
Three years ago, one night back from Orchard on an MRT where I sat on a reserved seat next to the doors, I got lost in my thoughts and unintentionally placed my hands on the glass frame right next to me. Through the transparent wall between my hand and the people on the other side, I saw how close, yet how far, I am to a stranger. What if, I thought, there was another hand placed right there next to mine, so it seems like we were touching, yet separated by a cold and solid material.
Three years ago, one night back from Orchard on an MRT where I sat on a reserved seat next to the doors, I got lost in my thoughts and unintentionally placed my hands on the glass frame right next to me. Through the transparent wall between my hand and the people on the other side, I saw how close, yet how far, I am to a stranger. What if, I thought, there was another hand placed right there next to mine, so it seems like we were touching, yet separated by a cold and solid material.
So when I placed my hand on the window glass to say goodbye to you today, I was surprised at how different the feeling was compared to my imagination back then. Yes I can feel the cold glass wet with raindrops, a startling contrast to how your hand really feels like, but your sleepy smile transcending through the glaring glass touched my heart like the warmth of your lips on my neck, erasing all physical senses around me.
Is it the glass that allowed such feeling to melt through, or is it you?
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