EW18

Disclaimer: please read this series of posts starting from EW29, then backwards.

We never had reason to visit the few stations here, individually or together. Neither of us worked or had school here, there were no buses that would bring you to Johor, no libraries that would shelter me while waiting for you.

But there was one instance: when you had to take your blood test before National Service. Do you remember? Maybe you wouldn't, but I can imagine the frown on your face before you suddenly exclaim Oh! You'll try to deny my memory, saying it happened somewhere else, but we both know I remember better.

It's so insignificant to you, despite your weakness with seeing heavy amounts of blood. I am the one who remembers, from what we were wearing and the buildings I saw while looking for the one you were in. I swear it was only yesterday, even though it's been three and a half years.

I finally found it, but of course I had to wait outside. I watched other guys walk in and out, some of them possibly the same batch as you months later. You soon left, with a plaster on your inner elbow and a face so pale.

The bus stop we sat at while you told me everything still rings clear in my head. If I was an artist I could draw out the scene, complete with me in the pink butterfly tee and you in your navy blue.

For some reason we headed to Ang Mo Kio Hub, where we ate Swensen's. We were so happy, it was another one of our restarts; we took a picture, which you used as your new Twitter icon. Hi because hello, your first tweet that showed our face to the world again.

You were still constantly prodding at me about your loyalty throughout the year, while I had rivers and white roses and ghosts. But while your blood was being collected in a bottle more than three years ago, it was my turn to be faithful. You were going into National Service the following year, where your only competition came to be my depression.

Who knew Redhill would be one of the last bits of innocence we had, when months later it would be my turn to bleed. I wish I was only now alighting at Bukit Merah bus interchange, wondering which way to go. I wish we had stayed at that bus stop, hearing you talk about nearly fainting at the sight of your own blood.

But the train had to leave, and its descent into the tunnel was the only way it could progress.