Its been weeks already, since I last smsed, IM-ed, or called you. How are you? I'm so sorry, I didn't want to hurt you this way. I'm overcome by guilt everytime I touch a computer. Yes, that's where all my memories of you reside, through the crystal screen of a laptop.

I have not forgotten you, never could, can't and never will. Its not so much love, but the deep interactions of the soul at an intimate level. The late nights and early mornings of curiosity and excitement at the discovery of a whole new world. That, was the cruel lure, the promise of a fairytale dream.

I find saying the words "I love you" in english very awkward and uncomfortable, so alien and unexpressive. Call it cultural exclusiveness, but I can only convey the depth of my emotions, especially love, through the nuanced articulation of my beloved mothertongue. Strange, isn't it, that after all the years of hated memory work and agonising periods of chinese, I only grow to love it after I've washed my hands off its education. The colour and life that it brings can never be fully encompassed or duplicated by the relatively sterile english language.

Not that english is any inferior. My favourite genres of music are in english, the beloved medium of expressing the "so-out-of-love" feeling.. The choice medium of expressing angst and sorrow. But not love. Not that it fails to do so entirely, but it does not portray what I feel fully.

Yes, language is a barrier for us. A huge one. You'll never understand me and I'll never understand you. Not entirely. Its the difference in culture, that illicited such exotic attraction, and in the end, will be the massive fractures in our relationship.

I am like the wind, staying not for long, always moving, always searching, but never finding the place where I'll be content. I am infatuated with infatuation, in love with love. That bright burst of attraction and the tantalising possibilities that give rise to such intense emotions, wildest hopes and beautiful dreams.

But dreams and reality are worlds apart, one in the ideality of the mind, the other in the cruelty of the world. Unless She comes along, the one more perfect than the mind's ideal, shocking my reality into a dream. Sadly, She isn't you.

But I am lonely. The loneliness of a bachelor, none understands, save his closest friends, cos only amongst them can such feelings be confessed freely, and surprises of surprises, they feel the same way too. Still, I have faith that She is going to appear in the least expected way, chase away the dull haze of loneliness with the bright blaze of her love.

Till then, I'm free to window shop, seeing, trying but never buying. Afterall, I have only so much love to give.

Love, the bittersweet intertwining of two lonely souls.