Send Me An Angel

Life is a huge farce - I know, I must have read that somewhere and written that down some time before...

I was in the lift after knocking off the other day, when I ran into EH. I first knew him from the Toastmasters Club that I belong to, though he did not even attend one chapter meeting. For some reason, we hit it off. EH is shy and soft-spoken, almost too demure for my liking. Perhaps, at times, he reminded me of myself at his age. With him, I like to see myself as a sort of life mentor.

Having obliged with the social greetings of norm, considering my STD - Small Talk Disorder - I was candid, shooting my mouth off about religion and its importance to one's life. I had always the impression that he was a pious Christian, thus I thought the subject might lure him out of his shell. How wrong I could get! In his own words, he is only a half-fledged (or was it half-fucked?) Christian, just going to church to see what Christianity is all about.

He stopped short there, yet, unconsciously perhaps, revealed the most elusive of matters clouding his mind, saying how he is still searching for "the centre of his life". The centre of his life? At first, honestly, it did not sink in. Then, he began talking about looking for people to go out, to have fun: for social outings like barbecue, hiking and the lots. Hiking? I thought for a moment: with his frail-looking body, surely he isn't into sports, or anything strenuous that work up a sweat.

Now, knowing he is also studying part-time, the "teacher" in me began to advocate reading as a hobby. I hit a cold wall then - no, books do not interest him; I thought I heard an echo bounding off the bricks. I guess I make a clueless uncle agony. And I felt our conversation was moving in a circle.

By some divine intervention, a flashback of our past conversation seeped into realm: he had confessed without restraint then, how he wishes for a special someone in his life.

So, the boy is now a man, waiting for an angel around which his life revolves.

How nostalgic, this feeling; I was also once there.

As we walked along, I was silent, deep in my own thoughts. I realised I had told him all I could back then.

Love is but a hope, though no less important. Passion for life, for learning, these are what make our journey significant. Being in love, or lonesome, either will have left our mind stronger. I just happen to fall into the latter.