Yj and I called it day at around 6pm, i think. Even he was worried about my shoulder.
I decided a doctor's concern should be heeded after all, even as the numerous nerve endings sparking off in my rotator cuff were beginning to mess with my head. I slogged off to the shower and made my way home.
The bus ride was even more silent than usual. Typically, after tennis, it's alive with aunties, school kids and the rasping of someone's iPod turned up to a volume that would shatter the chambers of a nautilus.
I didnt bring my earphones that day, so I just leaned my head against the glass of the 151, letting it bounce lightly off it as it sped down Bukit Timah road, which to me, is probably the worse road to travel down when you're feeling down.
Too many memories. Bittersweet ones, some just plain silly, and some sullen serious.
As the bus makes the turn at Bukit Timah plaza, I catch sight of King Albert Park - the place my family used to go for breakfast back in the early primary school days.
The bus rumbles past Hua Chong, and I distinctly remember someone, one of my old friends, having a room there. Once. A long time back.
Then past coronation and serene centre, the place where I blew countless hours chasing counterterrorists or hunting terrorists on old dusty computer monitors. And one early morning, when, with empty tin cans in our bags, we camped at the old MacDonalds downstairs. And where I won my first Magic the Gathering card game match, against a shortie with a useless Green Deck.
The bus lurches into a long turn, and I remember the bus stop. The one just in between SJI and SCGS. And I watch as 960 bus nostalgically passes.
The glow from SJI's church can still be seen, or at least, maybe I think i can still see it. Maybe it's just a picture in my head, but I can still see it - clear as day. And I cant help but choke back a smirk as I remember the days of white uniforms, green ties and spontaneous cheering.
And as I board my next bus, and I make the trip into the present, I feel like I've left most of my life behind there. There, on that bus ride along Bukit Timah road.
And that my journey forward is empty and hollow.
That I've gone from being a feeling, fruitful and boisterous kid, without a care in the world, to me now, as if I've lost part of my ability to feel. And that my life is numb.
Im still thinking that as I leave the bus and head up the slope towards Ava Towers.
I must've made that same jump a million times.
Today, I missed it.
Taking the usual leap over the concrete slope embankment, I miss a step, my toe gets caught one on edge. My shins are torn open by the concrete edge, and I land on my knees and palms right there, with the full weight of my tennis bag coming to a dull thud on my shoulders.
At first there is no pain, but a fleeting second later, it comes rushing through. The nerve endings spark, and i forgot about my shoulder. I let out a huge cry of "FUCK!" and roll onto my backside, still sitting on the floor. My shins are on fire, and my hands are sore stumps with fingers. Every part of me hurts.
My mind is screaming questions. "Will I be able to walk back to my place? Will I be able to play tennis after this? Should I take an MC for work on Monday? Damn, I can't i have a meeting that I can't miss. Should I skip out on the fang shen tomorrow sunday? Nah, I've put that off once too long. Should I see a doctor?"
And I feel alive again. In the most amusing of ways. In the most amusing of ways, that fall, that scuffle, scrape and bruising, along with that immense jolt of pain, reminded me that I am NOT a doll, that I DO have a life, a FEELING life, and a life ahead.
Stumbling to my feet, as I've done all my life, I soldier on. Forward.
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