Monday, November 26, 2007
Linger 


This is not a Tokyo love story.

It was a series of chain events that led her to the same place, same ending.

A dinner appointment with friends, 50,000 yen worth of crockery deposited into a locker in Tokyo station, a lost key, a train ride from Shibuya to Hamamatsucho and back, scouring the streets in 3 inch stiletto heels, a taxi ride to Tokyo station, the last train home missed.

"Do you want to crash?" he asked.

It was almost 1, they were both semi-drunk, cold and dead tired.

"I'm not sleeping on the couch again."

"You don't have to."

A hopeful smile broke inside her, and she nodded and relented.

Back in the warmth of his apartment, they showered (separately) and got into bed, lying side by side.

"I can't believe I have to go to work in less than 6 hours. I'm so tired but I can't sleep." He said out loud.

She couldn't sleep either, but for other reasons.

So they stayed up and took turns to tell stories of friends, work and travels, making up for lost time. They talked until their eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep first, then her.

And this was how she found herself with his arms wrapped around her, her face pressed against his neck, his familiar scent, a perfect fit.

"I've missed you." She whispered into his ear.

It felt like nothing changed, until she looked out of the window of his 23rd floor apartment and saw the city sprawled out in full view, the highway traffic that looked more like a little boy's playset from the distance. The full moon casted a beautiful and serene glow over the neighbourhood.

"This is not my life," she reminded herself and closed her eyes, waiting for daybreak to bring her back to reality.


But you always really knew
I just wanna be with you
And I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
You've got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger?

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Female. Singaporean
Traveller. Bookworm.
Coffee Addict.
Amateur Photographer.
Wannabe Fashionista.
Museum Geek.

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