secret heart ken man

Dear daddy, can you please
buy me for my birthday
a secret Heart Ken man for

me ok,

thank you daddy,

from Victoria Tan

mummy found this in one of her old files, the other day. she handed it to me- with a smile, no less- while i was preparing my famous delicacy of toasted bread with melted butter and sugar, at two in the morning.

"I don't know how come I have this." she said with a shrug. "Must've kept it by accident."

it was the first time i'd seen something like this, it had to be from at least 10 years back. funny, even virginia remembered how i used to write notes for my parents and stick them on their bedroom wall- it was my way of communicating with them. they always wrote back, always reassuring me of their love. being the middle child, i was constantly accused of having the middle child syndrome and whatnot.

i think i just wanted to be loved.

upon reading the paper (not note, A4 paper ok), the tears welled up. it reminded me of a great many things. hah. how i was so brazen as to actually ask for what i wanted. i don't think i've done that in a LONG time. my love for barbie dolls, yes the Secret Heart ken man is a ken doll. i don't remember but i think he really bought it for me. i have that doll. he's the handsomest of all my kens. he has real hair too! and a pretty shiny pink tuxedo. with a pretty girlfriend belonging to my sister to boot. (life's good huh, ken?)

i think he really did love me.

Father's Day, 16th June 2002

that's when it happened. it was a sunday morning. i was in the shower, getting ready for mr see to come over for tuition. then, there it was. verrell banged on the door, and cried out- this savage yell, making no sound in particular. my heart stopped.

i knew. i knew he was gone.

in that instant, we lost everything.

carol was by his side when he left. i was told, later on, that he called out for us. we weren't there. he wanted to see us, and we weren't there. on father's day, a father wasn't able to see his childrens' faces for the very last time before leaving.

in a few days time, it will be the 16th of june.

for the third time, since.

my heart still hurts when i think of him. my eyes still well up when you speak of him. when i see happy families go out for dinner, i can only look back to when we used to do that. it feels like forever. the debate in the car every saturday night, as to where to go and what to eat.

the pain's still there, i haven't healed.
not yet, not now. i wonder, if ever.

i have questions
the answers for me to find.
i wish you were here
but you're not.
and here i lay,
broken.

i don't think anyone truly understands. except virginia, verrell and mummy.

mummy, i know that you think i'm a spoilt brat who demands the world bow at her feet and revolve around her. i know you think i've forgotten him. i haven't. you think i don't feel pain. or sorrow. or regret for that matter. but i do. i always have.

you don't understand me. you think you know me, but you don't.

the pain comes when it comes. i can't put a date and time on it. it attacks swiftly, it never fails to hold me captive. it takes me and engulfs me. it brings me to another place, where i know no joy. nothing makes sense. i feel naught but the ache within.

but for what it's worth, i'm sorry.

i don't think i ever realised that your loss was far worse than mine. you lost your partner. the man you were willing to spend the rest of your life with. you lost the love of your life.

just so you know, i love you too.

love, me.