12th November 2013: My Everyday Muse.
"What are you doing?"
I looked up from what I had been staring for a while now towards the source of the voice to see my gorgeous lover leaning on the door frame, cradling the sleeping little one in his arm.
"Uhh, nothing." I shrugged and returned my attention back towards the screen of my laptop, all the while grinning in glee like the cat that got the cream.
"That doesn't look like nothing when your grin is splitting your face in half." He frowned, walking towards me before sitting next to me. "It's the usual, eh?"
"Ye. . . .ah?" I giggled slightly when he could do nothing but shook his head in disagreement, despite that he still didn't tear his eyes away from the screen.
"You're window shopping again? Why are you torturing yourself when you know you can't buy it?" He said when I opened a link in a new tab, showcasing the sales page of a second hand doll from the marketplace.
"Cuz I can and I want to?" I turned towards him and took the sleeping little one from him, cradling closer to me as he snuggled to my warmth. "It's not about not having the money, if I want it, I'll get it. Easy as that."
". . ." He stared at me, opening his mouth before closing it again and repeated it a few times. Finally putting what he wanted to ask, he said "Why didn't you just get a recast or something? It's cheaper isn't it? Why do you need to go so far just to buy the original?"
I stared at him like he's spouting nonsense in alien language. "It's not about the price, it has never been about the price. If people are saying they can't afford an original doll cuz they don't have the money, then I shall say that excuse is pathetic, lame, and downright stupid not to mention it. . .pretty much shows ones level of stupidity. Haven't they heard of something called layaway? Or saving for sh-heaven's matter? If they're saying they can't do it, then what am I? A rich kid? I robbed the bank maybe? Kidnap a conglomerate's child and asked for a ransom?"
"Language, my dear. Wouldn't want him to be tainted so young." He motioned towards the little one in my arms. "Bu still, touché aren't we?" he said, but decided to keep his mouth shut when I glared at him.
"It's well, I know that there's nothing can be done about the recast thing. But only cuz I'm like, "Meh, do whatever you want, your money." doesn't mean I have to like it." I frowned and leaned towards him when he started to play with my hair. "I mean like, if I like something I'll buy it. Whether it be a doll, a book, a manhwa, manga, doujinshi, donginji, anything. Most of the manga I have in my room, I already have them in here." I pointed to my laptop, "But did that stop me from buying the original ones eventhough I've read it? No." I shook my head, "It made my heart happy, to hold that original piece in my hand. Once, I even waited almost 5 years before I was able to get this one donginji."
"You have the patience." He frowned.
"But not every patience comes without a price."
"So I've experienced it." He said, remembering the time when I blew a fuse and kicked a door broken before stomping away fuming. "So, what's the difference then? You have your pirate copy of the book before you get the original ones, why is it not the same with dolls?"
"Duh." I glared at him like he's the most idiotic human being ever created and existed on the planet. "You can download mangas for free, you don't pay anything except donating the scanlators for it, it's not like they popped out of the computer screen brandishing a bloody axe demanding you pay them something. I'll be wasting money on recast dolls when I can buy original ones. Just add a lil bit and I'll get it, it's a simple math actually. Plus, you'll never understand the joy of holding their I.D card and handling manuals, it's like the best damn thing could ever happened to me in this hobby. Oh! And their original boxes too! I kept every single one of them still." I said and smiled to myself. "Every one of my dolls held a special part of me. I'm attached to them emotionally." I looked at him, "I'll never, EVER be able to sell any of my dolls. Heck," I smiled again, "I can't even throw any of my stuffs away. It might not be of much value in other people's eyes, but in my eyes they worth more than gold. Other people have to do the removing for me or else, it won't do much good."
"M-hmm." He smiled and nuzzled my hair affectionately.
"It's the memories. The attachment." I leaned to his touch. "If it's something that will be with me for a long time, I would want nothing but the best." I giggled when he nuzzled my ticklish spot. "Stop!"
"That's where the originals come in?" I nodded in reply to his question.
"Plus, comparing isn't a good thing as well."
"True."
". . ." I stared at the little boy sleeping in my arms. "It took me 5 years after my grandmum's death before I was able to throw away some stuffs she gave to me." I smiled slightly, "It didn't cost much, it probably didn't have any value except being able to be recycled."
"What is it?" he asked, his face lit with curiosity.
"Candy wrappers."
". . .You're not joking are you?" He raised a handsome brow.
"No." I shook my head wrong, "I don't know why, but it just is. I don't like throwing away things given by other people, especially those I held dear."
"So I assume all those trash in your bag and pencilbox has anything to do with your attachment?" His voice disbelieving.
"I guess. . ." I blushed a bit. "Back when I was in school, sometimes mom made something to eat on the way to school, like banana fritters packed in just a plain plastic. I won't throw the plastic at school, instead I fold it nicely and put in my bag. I'll only throw it away once I got home. Back then, I. . .well, the trashes kinda overloaded in my bag." I laughed in embarrassment. "It kinda put me at ease throwing it away while I'm around the person who gave it to me, I'm not so sure why." I frowned.
"You're something." he chuckled. "Weird for sure."
"Shut up!" I growled in retaliation."It's my OCD! It's not like I can do anything about it."
"I know." he smiled and nuzzled my hair back again. "And I'm kinda glad you have it."
"And why is that? It's tiresome, bothersome, cumbersome and whatever-some you can call it." I sighed, rocking the little one when he started to stir in his sleep.
"It's just a way of you protecting yourself."
"It's not. I don't know. Maybe I'm just weird."
"OCD is a part of a defense mechanism, it just developed unconsciously. Some people experienced it, some don't. It's not like you do it on purpose. People don't exactly clawed their skin at the spot they were touched." He sighed before continuing, "But you seem to be handling other people's touches quite easily recently. I'm kinda jealous."
"Well, it can't be helped." I frowned. "I've been living with my OCD for as long as I remembered. I didn't even know I have OCD until I was 18....I thought it was normal. I never stayed in dorms or go out much during my school days, so I've never knew. I've never forced to deal with the public although I know I'll try to avoid it as much as I could. When I realized it, I wanted to change and most girls around me ignores the 'personal bubble' thing. I just kinda got used to it, it's not easy but it worked. It took me a year and a half before they can break that bubble and another year before they can get close to me. But you do realize I've only let people I'm comfortable with to enter my personal bubble or touch me? Not to mention I spent most of the time with them, it's unavoidable."
"Yes, it's because they didn't know about your problem and neither did you talk about it to them. You didn't want them to worry, but if they're observant enough they should realize it considering you live in your own world." He nodded. "You still reacted the same towards people you're uncomfortable with or with the public as far as I can see. Not to mention you avoided touching things that were touched by anyone else previously." He looked at me and bored his odd eyes until I felt uncomfortable.
"Wh-what?" I fidgeted in my seat. His gaze is unnerving sometimes, and it made me feel like blushing although the red tinting my cheeks is anything to ignore.
"Do you still walk with your eyes downcast?"
"Uhh, yeah." I nodded in embarrassment. Reminiscing the reason I tripped quite a lot in my younger days. "I-it can't be helped, I can only walked looking up if I tune everything out and just see the road to my destination, or else I'll cast my eyes downward if I realized there is person of opposite gender walked facing me."
"You need work on that."
"I know. It's just a reflex," I sighed. "I just can't help it. I don't like it if people look into my eyes." I shifted my gaze away from him.
"Mhmm." His smile go unnoticed by me, "It's cuz you felt like they saw through you. Your eyes doesn't exactly hide anything, they tell everything."
". . ." I looked up to him. "I hate you."
". . ." he grinned and lightly kissed me on my lips, my chapped lips in contrast to his moist one. "I love you. You're my everything, menina." He petted our little boy's head, "And he will be the proof of it." He said with his voice lower a few octaves, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned closer again and this time rather than giving me a small light kisses, he molded our lips into one.
I looked up from what I had been staring for a while now towards the source of the voice to see my gorgeous lover leaning on the door frame, cradling the sleeping little one in his arm.
"Uhh, nothing." I shrugged and returned my attention back towards the screen of my laptop, all the while grinning in glee like the cat that got the cream.
"That doesn't look like nothing when your grin is splitting your face in half." He frowned, walking towards me before sitting next to me. "It's the usual, eh?"
"Ye. . . .ah?" I giggled slightly when he could do nothing but shook his head in disagreement, despite that he still didn't tear his eyes away from the screen.
"You're window shopping again? Why are you torturing yourself when you know you can't buy it?" He said when I opened a link in a new tab, showcasing the sales page of a second hand doll from the marketplace.
"Cuz I can and I want to?" I turned towards him and took the sleeping little one from him, cradling closer to me as he snuggled to my warmth. "It's not about not having the money, if I want it, I'll get it. Easy as that."
". . ." He stared at me, opening his mouth before closing it again and repeated it a few times. Finally putting what he wanted to ask, he said "Why didn't you just get a recast or something? It's cheaper isn't it? Why do you need to go so far just to buy the original?"
I stared at him like he's spouting nonsense in alien language. "It's not about the price, it has never been about the price. If people are saying they can't afford an original doll cuz they don't have the money, then I shall say that excuse is pathetic, lame, and downright stupid not to mention it. . .pretty much shows ones level of stupidity. Haven't they heard of something called layaway? Or saving for sh-heaven's matter? If they're saying they can't do it, then what am I? A rich kid? I robbed the bank maybe? Kidnap a conglomerate's child and asked for a ransom?"
"Language, my dear. Wouldn't want him to be tainted so young." He motioned towards the little one in my arms. "Bu still, touché aren't we?" he said, but decided to keep his mouth shut when I glared at him.
"It's well, I know that there's nothing can be done about the recast thing. But only cuz I'm like, "Meh, do whatever you want, your money." doesn't mean I have to like it." I frowned and leaned towards him when he started to play with my hair. "I mean like, if I like something I'll buy it. Whether it be a doll, a book, a manhwa, manga, doujinshi, donginji, anything. Most of the manga I have in my room, I already have them in here." I pointed to my laptop, "But did that stop me from buying the original ones eventhough I've read it? No." I shook my head, "It made my heart happy, to hold that original piece in my hand. Once, I even waited almost 5 years before I was able to get this one donginji."
"You have the patience." He frowned.
"But not every patience comes without a price."
"So I've experienced it." He said, remembering the time when I blew a fuse and kicked a door broken before stomping away fuming. "So, what's the difference then? You have your pirate copy of the book before you get the original ones, why is it not the same with dolls?"
"Duh." I glared at him like he's the most idiotic human being ever created and existed on the planet. "You can download mangas for free, you don't pay anything except donating the scanlators for it, it's not like they popped out of the computer screen brandishing a bloody axe demanding you pay them something. I'll be wasting money on recast dolls when I can buy original ones. Just add a lil bit and I'll get it, it's a simple math actually. Plus, you'll never understand the joy of holding their I.D card and handling manuals, it's like the best damn thing could ever happened to me in this hobby. Oh! And their original boxes too! I kept every single one of them still." I said and smiled to myself. "Every one of my dolls held a special part of me. I'm attached to them emotionally." I looked at him, "I'll never, EVER be able to sell any of my dolls. Heck," I smiled again, "I can't even throw any of my stuffs away. It might not be of much value in other people's eyes, but in my eyes they worth more than gold. Other people have to do the removing for me or else, it won't do much good."
"M-hmm." He smiled and nuzzled my hair affectionately.
"It's the memories. The attachment." I leaned to his touch. "If it's something that will be with me for a long time, I would want nothing but the best." I giggled when he nuzzled my ticklish spot. "Stop!"
"That's where the originals come in?" I nodded in reply to his question.
"Plus, comparing isn't a good thing as well."
"True."
". . ." I stared at the little boy sleeping in my arms. "It took me 5 years after my grandmum's death before I was able to throw away some stuffs she gave to me." I smiled slightly, "It didn't cost much, it probably didn't have any value except being able to be recycled."
"What is it?" he asked, his face lit with curiosity.
"Candy wrappers."
". . .You're not joking are you?" He raised a handsome brow.
"No." I shook my head wrong, "I don't know why, but it just is. I don't like throwing away things given by other people, especially those I held dear."
"So I assume all those trash in your bag and pencilbox has anything to do with your attachment?" His voice disbelieving.
"I guess. . ." I blushed a bit. "Back when I was in school, sometimes mom made something to eat on the way to school, like banana fritters packed in just a plain plastic. I won't throw the plastic at school, instead I fold it nicely and put in my bag. I'll only throw it away once I got home. Back then, I. . .well, the trashes kinda overloaded in my bag." I laughed in embarrassment. "It kinda put me at ease throwing it away while I'm around the person who gave it to me, I'm not so sure why." I frowned.
"You're something." he chuckled. "Weird for sure."
"Shut up!" I growled in retaliation."It's my OCD! It's not like I can do anything about it."
"I know." he smiled and nuzzled my hair back again. "And I'm kinda glad you have it."
"And why is that? It's tiresome, bothersome, cumbersome and whatever-some you can call it." I sighed, rocking the little one when he started to stir in his sleep.
"It's just a way of you protecting yourself."
"It's not. I don't know. Maybe I'm just weird."
"OCD is a part of a defense mechanism, it just developed unconsciously. Some people experienced it, some don't. It's not like you do it on purpose. People don't exactly clawed their skin at the spot they were touched." He sighed before continuing, "But you seem to be handling other people's touches quite easily recently. I'm kinda jealous."
"Well, it can't be helped." I frowned. "I've been living with my OCD for as long as I remembered. I didn't even know I have OCD until I was 18....I thought it was normal. I never stayed in dorms or go out much during my school days, so I've never knew. I've never forced to deal with the public although I know I'll try to avoid it as much as I could. When I realized it, I wanted to change and most girls around me ignores the 'personal bubble' thing. I just kinda got used to it, it's not easy but it worked. It took me a year and a half before they can break that bubble and another year before they can get close to me. But you do realize I've only let people I'm comfortable with to enter my personal bubble or touch me? Not to mention I spent most of the time with them, it's unavoidable."
"Yes, it's because they didn't know about your problem and neither did you talk about it to them. You didn't want them to worry, but if they're observant enough they should realize it considering you live in your own world." He nodded. "You still reacted the same towards people you're uncomfortable with or with the public as far as I can see. Not to mention you avoided touching things that were touched by anyone else previously." He looked at me and bored his odd eyes until I felt uncomfortable.
"Wh-what?" I fidgeted in my seat. His gaze is unnerving sometimes, and it made me feel like blushing although the red tinting my cheeks is anything to ignore.
"Do you still walk with your eyes downcast?"
"Uhh, yeah." I nodded in embarrassment. Reminiscing the reason I tripped quite a lot in my younger days. "I-it can't be helped, I can only walked looking up if I tune everything out and just see the road to my destination, or else I'll cast my eyes downward if I realized there is person of opposite gender walked facing me."
"You need work on that."
"I know. It's just a reflex," I sighed. "I just can't help it. I don't like it if people look into my eyes." I shifted my gaze away from him.
"Mhmm." His smile go unnoticed by me, "It's cuz you felt like they saw through you. Your eyes doesn't exactly hide anything, they tell everything."
". . ." I looked up to him. "I hate you."
". . ." he grinned and lightly kissed me on my lips, my chapped lips in contrast to his moist one. "I love you. You're my everything, menina." He petted our little boy's head, "And he will be the proof of it." He said with his voice lower a few octaves, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned closer again and this time rather than giving me a small light kisses, he molded our lips into one.