Closure

In the last days of our relationship, the unmistakable sensation of impending loss heightened the urgency of spending time together. I was doing everything in my capacity to keep her close to me, a time where she was the most poignantly dear to me, for she was slipping away. I used to admonish anyone for wasting their lives away, but there I was, at the Tampines Gamestation Arcade where the Old Cathay Cineplex used to be, wasting my own life away, because of her. I would look at her, her blonde hair covering her eyes as she battled the arcade machine with a look of simultaneous concentration and nonchalance. The way she looks, the way she looks at me, never fails to bring me back to the night when i fell, head over heels. For two years after we broke up I would visit the arcade everytime i was in the area, with no purpose whatsoever. Irrationally, just to re-experience the settings, perhaps just to hang on to a lingering memory that was fast fading, dissapating, a ritual that had its meaning obscured through the passage of time. Everytime i went back there, i felt as if i was standing on a stage many hours after the performance has ended.

But today, I was greeted by a vacant entrance and a "no entry" sign. They had closed, taking the sounds, the setting, and the memory away.