perceptive projection

Dear journal,

 

In my younger days, while my maternal grandparents were still alive, the whole big family, whoever was back at the country at the time, would gather together every long weekend to stay at the villa in the mountain belonging to my aunt, J's mother. And sometimes, it wasn't just our big family, but also my aunt's friends and their families, that were also familiar with our big family, because her villa is big. It was more than a villa, more like a a small estate with surrounding land spanned more than 12 acres. The villa, itself, had more than ten bedrooms in total, with each room big enough to fit four sleeping people easily.

It was not a wonder then that these gathering could end up with more than thirty people altogether, a mix of adults and children.

The adults would play cards, mah jong, bbq-ing, the really small children running around, the teenagers ended up either joining the adults or explored the hilly landscape, with its lake and several ponds, and the property adjoining directly to a tea plantations on one side and a protected rain forest on the other. 

 

Once upon a time, during one of these gathering, also with my aunt's friends along, the "aunties" brought along someone who also played/hung out in their group of friends once in a while. She was among the youngest of them all, thirty years old. But to us, the 'next' generation, with me, at eighteen, being the second oldest of the children, thirty years old seemed old, especially if that person was a friend of our parents'. 

This was the year I broke up with Alpha, a year after we announced our engagement. So, I was in the "I don't care about the world" mode. 

But it was hard not to remember that event, because my aunty's friend, that thirty years old woman, was creating quite a "scandal". She was quite beautiful, slender, medium height,  long oval face, lovely smile, black wavy hair that fell down her back. The problem was that she was still single, and in the society where most women were already married for at least a few years by the time they turned thirrty, this was a big slight. So, my aunt's friends were using the gathering to matchmade her with my friend's brother's friend, who was of the same age as her. My friend's brother and his friend also came to the gathering, of course.

 

It caused quite an excitement among the adults. But because of my mood, I steered clear from it all, seeking my own company whenever I could, although not often, because the other girls, the children from my aunt's friends kept following me around as we used to since we were children since J and I were the oldest, making us, by de facto, leaders. 

However, whenever we grouped together, this stranger, this man, kept joining our group. When my eyes questioned the others thewhoaboutofthisstranger, none of them knew. But we welcomed him anyway, since we thought he might be some friends that got mix and brought by the adults but felt uncomfortable around the adults, and we all, who were in the group, knew how that felt.

Then I noticed, at the very first evening, the stranger kept seeking my company, even when I was alone with my book, away from the others.

I was polite of course and kept him entertained, I was, after all, the niece of the paragon host. 

 

Then the next day, it was the same. The next day it was the same. I kept avoiding the crowds, I kept finding him finding me. Over those days, I had learned his name, and many other things.

 

It wasn't until the the third day, one of the girls, whose brother was supposed to bring a friend to be matchmade to the one of the aunties, told me that the man who'd been following me around was actually that friend. And that her brother kept wondering where his friend had gone missing. 

I was mortified and avoided that man like a plague, to no avail.

 

Much to the chagrinned of the adults, the man ended up liking me so obviously that it'd become a joke for years to come. And everybody gave up on the whole matchmaking idea, especially after my friend's brother told the adults that his friend was interested in someone else but her.

 

As for me, I didn't dare to meet my aunt's female friend afterwards. Because I felt utterly bad. Never I considered myself to be in competition with a woman at that age, our worlds so far apart that it never crossed my mind that we were fishing in the same pond actually.

What made me feel worse was that I wasn't even looking, wasn't even searching or trying to flirt with the guy. I didn't even know or particularly care when he arrived, etc.

All in all, I felt sorry for her. And I didn't want her to know I felt sorry for her.

 

Why I recalled that story, because of my own age.

This month, I'd turn thirty-three.

 

Still single. And no matter how I lamented of this fact, if I wanted to be honest, I chose to be single, for whatever reason, I chose it. I was the one who broke it off with Alpha, again with J, again with B. The men who seriously considered marrying me and actually did propose and to whom, I'd considered to walk the matrimony gig. 

And like her, I am not bad looking, after all, how bad looking one can be if they get asked out by men every day. But like her, when I was back home, everybody that knew me and my parents and my family started to panic on my behalf and tried to introduce me to men, from mediocre to the very finest, much to my annoyance. I wanted to scream that I could find the boys on my own, and it wasn't because of the lack of boys. 

 

Only now, in this position, I thought about her, my aunt's friend, that maybe she was single by choice, too. 

Only now, I realized I felt sorry for her for the wrong reason.

 

I should see her, meet her in the eyes, and say, yes, you can choose whatever you want and it'll be okay. It is okay.