The Purple Guy

“Your movie is one of a little girl. A very mature little girl.”

It was an SMS from a stranger I just talked to for about 10 minutes.

You could know someone forever, and yet you feel so distanced and struggle to have interest in finding out more about them. Then you meet someone and you already feel like you knew him just by seeing his smile. You suddenly expose all of your personal tales to him, because somehow you feel there is nothing that he didn’t know already anyway.

This kind of person makes being honest seem like an everyday thing. So I sent him a reply and insist him to come to Bandung.

The first hour I met him, I already suspect him as a purple guy, the kind of species that I, the greens: opposite of purple, usually attracted to. Green is the bossy extrovert one. Purple is the quite peaceful one.

The second hour, He already showed me that he ia a yellow. Smart jokes. Laidback. Paying for my food. Exactly the kind of company I love having around.

The third hour, he already reveals that he was also a blue: a thinker. He describes a country he visited 3 times only better than me, who lived there for a year and came back a lot of time. He talked about how the cinema and the country are so in need of an identity. He talked about how they try so hard to minimize their own language, the Hokyan dialect, in their movie... and never bother to turn itself into a racing circuit (when they have no history of race car... and have tremendous unresolved history about other race problems)

The fourth hour, he reveals some of the fact that I never knew... or did know but just never realize... about one thing I shoulda known more: myself.

Then it occurs to me why I hate and love Singapore at the same time. It’s just like me, trapped in the middle of so many cultures, in need of an identity.

Six hours later, I have no idea what color he is. But now I know that he’s married and has a baby.

But somehow it doesn’t bother me. Cause I am all for the idea that love is something you can share with some special people, and marriage is all about commitment to one of those special people.

And He smiles. I hate his smile now. It’s like saying: “Aha! Little girl!” So I sent him and his annoying smile home back to Switzerland, Belgium, France, Germany, or whereever it is he comes from.

I think he's also in search of an identity.

Miss you, purple guy=D