Number One

She keeps a blog.

I remember a line from the movie, The Thomas Crown Affair, when Rene Russo's character casually mentioned to the police inspector she is working with, "I keep an apartment here." The inspector mutters to himself, "Oh, she keeps an apartment." and then turns to her and say, "I keep goldfish."


She keeps a blog.

And I'm her number one reader, her number one fan, her number one eyeball impression for her digital scrawls, and her number one worshiper at her digital shrine.

Her number one - me.

I've always been obsessed with being number one.

In primary school, this girl in my class (let's call her Miss Nemesis) kicked my ass and was number one of the whole cohort, not just the class, for the whole 6 years. I studied hard. I studied smart. I studied with patience, finesse and art. And still, I was number two.

I tasted my first sweet victory when a teacher shoved me on stage and into a speech competition. She taught me how to conquer fear. She taught me how to hold attention. She taught me how to win the crowd. She taught me how to be number one. And I was number one. Then I represented the school in the district finals. And again, I was number one.

In the district competitions, I met a girl who sat behind me (let's call her The Crush, though she is not my first crush). So focused was I in the competition that I did not bother to turn around and see who's behind me. But when I finished my speech, she tapped me lightly on the shoulder and congratulated me. I turned around and I had a crush.

I was number one that day. And she was number two. Eventually, we would both represent our respective schools as competitors in the state finals. And eventually, we would both crash out of the state finals with no victories. But she talked to me. She was nice to me. I figured, maybe it was because I was number one in the district championships. I wanted her to be nice to me forever. And so, I want to stay number one.

In high school, I was always number one. For 6 years there, I was number one, if not in cohort, then in class. I was almost always the number one in speech competitions - in English and Malay - and in Chinese debates. I was number one in many other competitions. I even graduated as the top student, the finest honor any student can attain. Miss Nemesis was nowhere even close to touching my league.

And still, I was not number one. Not The Crush's number one anyway. For 5 years I longed to be her number one. But I was nowhere even close to touching her league.

I came to Singapore to study and to get away from the sad fact I was not her number one. I thought I could be number one here.

I was never number one anymore. Not in competitions. Not in studies. Not in love.

Till now.

She always let me read her blog first, before anyone else does.

I was worried the other day. That I would not remain her number one forever. That someone somewhere will waltz in someday and somehow sweep her feet off from my pedestal which I've put her on. And I shall never be number one again. And there will be no happiness from being number one in anything ever again.

She leaned in and whispered to me, "Remember, you were my first. And you are always my first."

I'm happy again. It's not that she told me I'm her first or that I'm number one that mattered. It's the way she said it.

Her eyes so lovingly engulfed me in their pools of stars. Her shoulder so nicely touching mine as she leaned in. Her nose tickling my ear lobe. Her voice caressing my cheeks like a light feather kissing dew drops.

And try as you might, you can't fake that.

She's MY number one.

And she loves me.

And she keeps a blog.