wonderment

Caught the literary meme bug from faithtoh’s website. Went on to look at the source of this interesting little wordbug and discovered quite a few others doing it … Yeah, call it a fad or whatever, but this is probably the only time you’ll ever hear of all the embarrassing stuff I never told you … Am a bit late in submitting this though … Took a week to write this entire thing!

So here goes ….

I’m that girl who before 3 loved dogs, the one who at 3 was chased by a neighbour’s crazed pomeranian, the one who ran and hid until it was dark, the one who loved cats instead. I’m the girl who at 18 went to a friend’s house for a project, the one who tried running away from the jackrussells, the one who fell in love with dogs all over again before that night was over.

I am the girl who had no toys except a trunk of old clothes. The one who wore mismatched shoes, pearls, an oversized yellow fishnet shirt and her mother’s Hepburn sunglasses and felt like a star. The girl who wanted to be a lot of things but most of all she wanted to be an actress and have the Prime Minister give her the prize like Zoe Tay.

I’m that girl who upset the sarong that dumped her baby sister on the floor, the one who caught grasshoppers after school, the one who smuggled Bin Bin biscuits up the bus and left powdery crumbs all over the bus uncle’s floor. I’m the one who had a cute smirk for the bus auntie who never caught her eating.

I’m the girl who got sick and wore a wig.

The one whom you diagnosed with a deadly form of ovarian cancer, the one you joked with even though the diagnosis was so bad, the one you said that the “sweet smelling apple perfume” would put her into a nice deep sleep, the one you promised, “Everything would be all right”. I’m the girl who remembered your smile among the sombre faces, the one you talked adult stuff with, the one you pulled funny faces for. I’m the girl you studied, the girl you discussed about with the medical interns, the girl who got that “rare disease”. I’m the girl you gave the all-clear signal to 6 years ago, the one you finally told of her true condition despite her mother’s objections, the one who asked you awkwardly, “Can I ever have children?”. I’m the girl you watched become a woman, the one who talked with you about blogs, boys and her wanting to be a famous news broadcaster, the one you still joke, “How many kids do you want?”.

I’m the girl who almost died, the one who lived to tell you the story.

I’m the girl who feels more than she thinks. The girl who began on the wrong foot with her bestest pals.

I’m that girl who was asked by the teacher to sit with you in Secondary Two. The girl who complained to her clique that you irritated her. The girl who preferred to do group activities alone. The girl you knew didn’t like you. The one you persisted in making her your friend. The one who cried when you went to a different class. The one who keeps in touch with you years after graduation. The one you surprise to this day with your dedicated love for the Saviour.

I’m that girl who laughed at your fear of heights, the one you teased about her blurness, the one you shared your deepest thoughts. I am the girl you treated as a confidante, the one who turned away from you, the one who walked out of that friendship. The one you forgave, the one you allowed back into your life.

But I’m the girl whose great regret is you.
The one who should have never assumed your dependence for love. The one who should have known that you would be a good friend but nothing more. The one who cried till her stomach ached the day she found out you had feelings for another. I am the girl who did not spare a thought for your feelings. The one who regretted it immediately. I am the girl who walked up the hill to deliver your birthday present, told your brother not to tell you, and walked away alone. I am the girl who realised too late that you never loved her, who never said goodbye when you left, who called you but you never called back.

I’m the girl who believes a good talk is therapeutic, a deep sleep powerful, a prayer to the One heavenly.
The girl who believes that true love is both fact and feeling, commitment and chemistry, and worth waiting for.
I’m the girl who tells you to listen to your mother, count your blessings while you still can count, and know where you’re going once you’re dead and gone.

I am the girl who gives you thanks.
The one you birthed, the one you spotted the first sign of illness, the one you give money to now even though she can earn her own keep.
The one you fetched around without complaint, the one you encouraged to choose her own path, the one you accepted even with her radical ideas.
The one who relies on you for moral support, the one who keeps you awake with midnight talks and jamming sessions, the one who can’t believe you’re 6 years younger.

I am the girl that was fearfully and wonderfully made, the one You chose to be adopted into Your family, the one You bless everyday, the one You forgive despite her pride, her self-centredness, her evil.

I am the girl who is happy to be alive.

O yes, I’m that girl. So who are you?