與我常在

When I was in Primary Two, my class teacher expressed his concern to my mum that I didn’t smile or laugh much. Back then I didn’t know that we human beings smile or laugh for social purposes; I only laughed and smiled for physiological needs. I could never hold a smile or a grin long enough for photography; even when I could I did that in an unnatural way. Now that after some practice (and I mean it) I manage to produce a reasonable grin upon request but somehow that part of social handicap has shaped my life.

I’ve never been a sociable person who is lucky with friends. Well, I’m not that compatible with most people.

I used to imagine having a twin sister who had exactly the same thoughts as mine. I wanted someone to hang around with and explore different places, to keep me company, to hug me when I felt needed, to hold my hands when I needed support, to lend me a shoulder to cry and gently pat my back telling me everything was going to be fine; someone who didn’t mind sharing my silly and somehow absurd thoughts and the silence when I didn’t feel like talking or when I was lost in thoughts. And I would do exactly the same things for her (Alright, it’s not a twin sister I’m talking about but a clone of me. But then isn’t it more realistic to desire a twin sister than a clone of oneself?).

When I’ve grown up, solitude has become a preference more than a compromise. I hang around alone, watch ballet shows alone, travel alone and launch a new life in a novel city alone. I tell myself everything is going to be fine when actually nothing is fine. I’m neither independent nor strong. Please. I’m not pitiful but I’m not strong either. I just feel more comfortable that way.

There’s no twin sister. There’s no clone of me.

I know. I am the real narcissist.