Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind, “Pooh! “, he whispered.

“Nothing.”, said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you “.

People flow in and out. Environments change. Words said…remembered and forgotten.

But one thing that matters is to put out your hand and feel like…someone is there. A warm touch.

I do the same. It’s out of wanting to know he’s there—present and willing. He would respond in kind. No other words need be exchanged.

“Taiche!” I would say.

And he would say, “Yah?”

Then this is where I would open my arms and we would hug. Just because.

This time it’s on my own.
Minutes from somewhere else.
Somewhere I made a wish with Lucky Denver Mint.
Hurry go on ahead.
Good things won’t let you wait.
I’ll catch up when we get home.
At home I’ll leave.
A dollar under water keeps on dreaming for me.
You’re not bigger than this, not better.
Why can’t you learn.

I would listen to this over and over. And think, you don’t know this song so I am better than you.

During happy hour, someone directly asked, interrupting us in mid-conversation, “Are you engaged?”

I hesitated, not exactly sure how to respond. For a single halting moment, I analyzed his motivations. His face reflected curiosity—but otherwise it was devoid of any other clue. It wasn’t intended to cause displeasure. There was a little of trying to cause discomfort.

Eventually, I relented and just honestly said, “No.”

My personal biases did surface—my slight envy of those couples, but yet the same adage remains. We don’t need to be married to show commitment.

And yet…what about personal questions?

There are two superhero powers I would like to have.

1. To read minds
2. To be invisible

Only to understand people better, because sometimes I cannot understand myself.

Exercise. Work out. Get out.

That’s what I would tell myself when I ran out of breath or looked at myself in the mirror. Or most importantly when I knew that I had an upcoming scavenger hunt that required a lot of energy.

There would be small spurts of running, jogging…but all to no avail. The idea of running…feet pounding the pavement just wasn’t natural to me. I wouldn’t go anywhere. I would run up the hill—tell myself that next time, I would keep going without slowing down. I would keep going and going.

Then the last few weeks I thought…why don’t I just do something that I would enjoy?

Easy. Obviously.

So I am doing my first long bike ride this Sunday!

I had a friend once. He amused me to no end. Not in a romantic way at all. But I was intrigued by the stories that he would tell me. The dramatic philosophies of life. I liked his energy and determination.

I would call him. Hey, let’s grab dinner! He would agree.

Then one day, I stopped calling him. A year later, I realized that he never called me. By that time, I realized how shallow our friendship was—it was only an one-way street.

How sad to realize that now.

And looking back on my calendar, I am the one who asks, initiates. Sometimes, I wonder—maybe they’re just being nice.

“Let’s do lunch sometime!” an acquaintance says in an appropriate moment in the conversation—as both of us are leaning toward goodbye.

“Oh yes, let’s!” I respond and a moment of hesitation overcomes me. When? Where? Is this going to happen?

This is where I want to blurt out—how about next Wednesday? Noon? I’ll choose. But I let the decision fall silently back to our minds, perhaps putting a mental slot in our calendars—keep a lunch open for us.

But yet what about the times when an invitation is really a polite courtesy? An invitation is a sign of it was great seeing you again, but I only said lunch because it seemed like an appropriate way to say goodbye. It’s so much more better than saying “See you later.”

I am a closer. I hear the lingering indecision. I want to make it happen. In the last week, I have heard lunch, dinner, concerts, cat visiting, parks, bread bakery visits, bike rides but the decisions linger. And then about a year later, when we pass again, it’s why did that never happen?

You pick up rose-colored glasses. Looking through them, the world appears rosier, pink…perhaps happier. A weight is lifted off your shoulders. Clarity, perhaps. Life…is better.

Yet the world hasn’t changed at all. The bus still costs $2 to ride. Your latte will still be made the same way. The homeless man at the corner will yell the same obscenity. And your mom will still call you at the most inopportune times.

And yet is it the same?

There are moments where I sit staring at the same words, same images. I am thinking—then I have a realization…a great moment of clarity. Oh yes. Subtlety, my behavior changes, but the world continues as it always has.

At one point, I used to say “whore” although realized that too many negative connotations came with that—even though I believed that I was just making a joke.

I love social media. I don’t know why. I am obsessed with watching relationships—how and why people connect. Then I also thoroughly enjoy the ability to share—whether it’s an outburst of creative pursuits or the sudden urge to shout to the world I AM HERE, LISTEN TO ME.

Like Facebook, Friendster, orkut…and many others, I was excited to be part of Google+. I immediately customized my circles and invited as many people as possible (although I filtered only to those people that I considered people-I wanted-to-contact). I changed my photo to something normal for once (a random iPhone photo that I took). And I hung out.

Unlike many people, I used Google Buzz as long as possible until it took too much effort to do both.

FIRST. In some way, that was partially the reason that I was bouncing up and down to play. I am an early adopter for new (“free”) services.

I am willing to waste time, because that’s who I am.

“This is soda!!!!” a friend would hand me a questionable drink.

I would look at it quizzically, take a sip and laugh, “I know it’s not.”

No hard feelings at all. Because now…9 years older, I know that they want to make sure everyone is having a good time. Or even from a different perspective, they are uncertain if they can have a good time if not everyone is consuming something…alcoholic. It’s a sign of insecurity on their part. I have just reduced it to only I don’t like the taste. Although I can down kombucha, tonic water, tea…no problem.

What’s so funny is that…in early college, I interpreted it all as attacks on me—attacking my beliefs. Most likely, there was a pretty good chance of me naturally falling into the pattern of having a drink. Yet, it didn’t happen that way, because of all the peer pressure that I rebelled against—all because I thought that they were attacking me.

And it wasn’t it at all. But how about now—I embody so much headstrong-ness.

1. Writing (because they things so unreal)
2. Chopping (onions)
3. Washing dishes (because the hot water washes away the problems)
4. Watching movies and TV
5. Sleeping