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Secret Mermaid



Secret Mermaid. She crossed this tiny little hole-in-the-wall whiskey bar everyday, and her steps would slow down automatically, she would try to peep in and never be able to see anything because of the cloth flap/curtain that covered the entrance, like a japanese restaurant. The lights were always dimmed and the music very light, almost quiet. 

She would remember him for a split-second. And how he had diverted her from her path to the MRT and asked her if she was up for a drink. It was 9 PM and she wanted to go home, but also wanted to be with him, so it really wasn't a hard decision to make and so she followed his lead and stepped into this tiny place and loved it instantly. It was cozy, they got a seat at the bar and the bar tender educated them on the american craft spirits they keep. The setting was perfect for after dinner drinks and a quiet little intimate chat.  

They were still very new to each other, and there was so much to learn, so many things to explore, so many stories to share, so many laughs to laugh. And so they did. The winter was almost upon them and the weather even in Singapore was beginning to relent and led people to believe that winter was approaching. He shared his days from college to his first job to how he got to be here and she shared the music she loves and why, and where her travels have taken her and the lessons each of those have taught her. His voice was magical, with a musical lilt to it, and her smile was like this November weather, soft and welcoming, with promise of purity. The winds and the universe carried the spark of innocent love, from the secret mermaid all the way to where intentions are sent to be blessed. Or not. 

The bartender looked upon them and smiled a smile, knowing what was happening, and secretly wishing that although it was winter, this little seed would sprout into something more stable and whole. But it didn't. Not for anyone's fault. They were two different people. They were also too different. 

It's funny how she had wanted this so much at one point in time. And now when she looks back, she is at peace with the fact that it didn't happen. While that thought and realisation comforted her, it also scared her. A lot. What if this were true for all things in life. That there are times and instances when you want something really badly, to the point that the thought of living without it aches, but when you don't get it or it doesn't end up happening, all you need to be ok is to give it time. What then is the meaning of passion, of aching for something, of madness, of drive, of "this is what I'm meant to do", "this is who I am meant to be" or "this is who I am meant to be with" - what's the meaning of it all if we are not to lose ourselves in the things we do and the people we choose to be with? 

What a half lived life that would be - she thought to herself today standing in front of a SingPost counter opposite the flapping Noren of secret mermaid.


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