Rues of Roo

I shall not dwell too much on thoughts that would probably be best kept to myself, but nevertheless, being 2007, and having not stepped foot on Singapore land this year and instead having the right to say ‘I’ve been home for the entire year’ allows me to, well, in my own mind at least, have the jurisdiction to dictate the words on this page.

Before my trip to London, I sadistically hoped it would be a miserable one. I hoped that I would return home, return to a place that I had reminisced about with memories fond and fresh and found a place that not only did not welcome me back, but one in which the slight anger I had for this city would, in a way, be vindicated. I hoped that I would hate the place, and leave it, alone. I hoped that it would be a place that, in my absence (and own egotistical manner), had faded and crumbled. That it would be a place in which I found only the wet and cold and wind. The latter, for sure. The rest? Well. Hardly.

Reasons for such sentiments boil down to the manner of my departure. Some will know why, some won’t, but regardless, leaving London was one of the hardest things I’ve done. Ever. And to see what it (London) took, and what it didn’t, have been hard over the past year, the past months. Yet, from the moment I touched down in grotty Heathrow and that sift of drizzling rain hit my face at 6am, I could not help but smile. It was a smile no one saw, but as I walked out onto that familiar tarmac and saw those black cabs and felt all that cold wind and rain, well. Despite it all, I loved her once, and home is home, after all.

When I arrived chez moi and stood in my room, changed not for the past year, and as I surveyed the memories, both the good and the bad, I could not help but wonder what had brought me to and fro and why. It’s strange how a room can contain so many emotions. Every wall, picture, book, CD, paper contains things that no room in Singapore holds for me. 20 years.

Strangely, though, a lot of the reasons why London turned out to be the way it is for me today are due to reasons that consist of no more than maybe the past three or four years. People who I’ve met, loved and cherished. It’s true, I suppose, that sometimes distance makes people drift, but being thrust back together it was as if we had never parted ways. These are the kind of people who make even the worst of cities great, and make cities like London, well, all the greater.

Coming to London with low expectations and having them met so many times over is hard enough. Now, leaving it once more, while perhaps not as hard as it was a year ago (pretty much to the day) is hard nevertheless, and definitely harder than I thought it would be a month ago. Yes, there are less people to leave behind, yet, there are less people that I thought I would be glad to leave behind, and that makes it all the worse. Because there are less reasons, for everything. And sometimes, things just don’t really add up anymore. You love to hate, and you hate to love. And most of all, you hate to love what you don’t have.

The word that probably best sums up my 2006 is upheaval. The word that 2007 will be, well, I hope will be less straining. I may just be thinking about things far too much. Perhaps I ought to do what I feel. Perhaps I just ought to go with the flow and focus on the things that matter now. Perhaps I should just give in to it all and not worry about the consequences. But perhaps, that may be the difference between 06, and 07.