Verona

Confession: I am usually afraid to meet my past. I know you HAVE to learn from it and not make the same mistakes but... I absolutely despise my past, I shrink back when I think of it. I'm actually angry with myself sometimes when I think of what I did. Like "How dare you inflict this pain onto yourself again,” or “Why were you so damned stupid?” I cannot tolerate that disgusted feeling of mines.

I hate every small little movement I did. I hated every wrong word I said that caused mayhem. If I didn’t say it, things would be so much better. If I didn’t do it, things would be simpler.

I make wrong choices. Great.

You might say, “But everyone makes mistakes.” Yes, they do but my mistakes are unforgivable. I am not the goodie-goodie that you see on the outside. Nope. I lie, I cheat, I steal, I manipulate, I use people. It’s okay if you start to resent me now. I deserve it. But above that all, I’m a reckless, idiotic person who can’t even think ahead. That’s why I hate my past so much. I hate everything that triggers memories. Bad memories, that is.

That’s why I hate 20^th, November 2011. I loathe it. I think Fate hates me. Why? Here it goes…

After the competition at RTHK, the teacher took us to Festival Walk for lunch. That was a wrong move. I should have left immediately when I had the chance.

When I walked in, I was overwhelmed. With the smell, the Christmas decorations, the shops. Although the last time I was there was exactly a month ago, I could remember everything. The Santa in the hot air balloon. The elves in the Tree. The pink armor. Every single detail was engraved into my mind. Then I found myself making my way to Glacier. Extremely horrible mistake.

It was ISI annual competition that very day. I have never missed one before. I may not have gotten a medal each time I competed but I had very fond memories of Glacier. It was the place where I fell in love with ice-skating. It was where I got my first medal for a sport. It was the first place where I competed in a solo and pair event. So many memories washing over me like a river.

I remembered how hard I practiced for my solo event until my skin was bleeding so badly.

I remembered how freaked out I was the night before.

I remember how the thin and scanty costume slipped over my goose bump covered skin.

I remember how I had walked proudly towards the Glacier and how I tied my skates and fitted my skate covers over them.

I remember lining up by the tiny little gate, shivering from the cold and excitement.

I remember how my dad waved from Genki sushi.

I remember how going onto the ice on my own. There was absolutely no sound except for the swoosh of my skates, my ragged breathing and my heartbeat beating as quickly as helicopter blades.

I remember standing in the middle of the vast whiteness. Waiting for the judges to signal for me to start. I imagined how it was, a small figure standing in nothing.

I remember how I bowed to all the awaiting eyes, all locked on me.

The moment to shine.

I remember how the air was so cold when I jumped.

I remember how the sunlight was so yellow when I spun.

But most of all, I remembered the silence. There was utterly no sound at all. 

I remember the applause and whistles I had received when I bowed again. Then, relieved, I exited the rink. Completely breathless.

Then I received my medal. 4^th for my grade out of the whole Hong Kong.

I remember how I ran my trembling fingers over it, tracing the letters “ISI Asia 2009”

Later that day, I remember at 7pm, I was again at the small gate of the rink. This time, I was not alone. I was with my partner.

I remember how the city lights looked liked as we stared out of the huge windows around the rink. It was so dark and cold outside but in here, it was just perfect. Watching the multi-colored lights reflect off the ice at the rink. It was almost magical.

I took my partner’s hand and led him onto the ice. Again, there was nothing except for two figures standing in the middle, bowing to the judges and audience.

I remember how he swished around me, as I stood as rigid as a statue, like I should be.

I remember how he took off around the rink, leaping and jumping like a gazelle.

I remember how he returned to my side and became a statue while I became alive and started to spin around him like a ballerina. Then I returned and we held hands then bowed again. Then left.

I remember how I held my second medal, 2^nd place this time for the pair event, and stood on the podium for a picture.

Then I got sucked back to reality. I was there, just staring as the skaters pranced around on ice in their stunning costumes, getting medals.

Watching them, I realized I could not let go of ice-skating. The fact hit me like a bullet. Straight into my brain and heart.

I then hated myself for quitting. Quitting after I had practiced until I was nearly perfect. Quitting for studies. But I had no choice.

It was the only way to keep my grades up. That was my priority. But I love ice-skating. I can’t let it go. When I remember something so vividly, I know there’s some special connection there.

I know Festival Walk.

I know Glacier.

I know my blades.