Earlier yesterday was spring cleaning day at my home. My my, I didn't realize how cluttered my room (and ultimately my life?) had become. Books & mags scattered here & there, unopened citibank & astro bills, a whole pile of papers & stuff on my desk. Must've been that 'ala bukannya ada saper nak tengok pun' attitude which had plagued me of late. Tidy up, tidy up, hang up laundered clothes, pick up books off the floor, change bedsheet, vacuum carpet etc etc.
Then, I made a stupid mistake. I decided to open my teakwood chest, and found The Album. The chest is where I keep my most personal stuff, where nobody (I hope) ever get into. I haven't seen The Album for a good part of the last 2 years. I pondered for a while, then I made the second stupid mistake. I opened The Album. I couldn't help it, tears turned to sobs, but still I turned the pages. Images of a younger me looking like a princess of the day, madly in love, eyes sparkling with joy, posing and flirting with the lenses, demure smiles masking the thump thump in my heart, a little fearful but much anticipation of the coming nightfall and all that it promises. Such innnocence. Little did I know.
Maybe some day, I hope sooner rather than later, I will fall in love again, get hitched, build up a family. But it will be a different kind of love. A different kind of intensity. A different kind of relationship. A different behaviour towards my partner.
It will all be different, because I AM different now.
I am jaded.
And I cried for the innocence, lost forever, never to be regained, nor given to another.
Allah? Do you hear my cries?