I didn’t expect to find profoundness when I sat down for a viewing of the Nanny McPhee movie the other day.

But hasn’t it always been an age-old dilemma for us humans - caught in between our wants and needs like tidal waves, never knowing for sure if they will lead us to the safety of the shore, or take us further into the abyss of the ocean?

Need. It sounds simple enough. But just how important is a need? How does it uphold itself when placed against something else - love?

Many people would say that love is the most powerful feeling you can have. Just three words, I love you, can translate to an infinite tapestry of meanings and intentions.

While I cannot deny the depth of this emotion we call love, I was always more intrigued by the gravitational pull that a need brings.

Because really, you can love someone but does it come hand in hand with needing them too?

To me, love represents freedom, ray of lights, possibilities, vast openness, and a steady stream of heartbeats.

And need just seems to be the polar opposite end of the spectrum… entrapment, darkness, entanglement, lack of breathing space, and the occasional skip in heartbeats.

One gives you wings to let you fly, and the other, roots that bind you.

There’s no right answer, but I know my preference and the precise reason is this -

Once upon a time, someone said to me, “I need you.”

Those words instantly placed cage bars around me. I thought of fleeing, but how could I walk away when my existence meant something to someone?

And in that moment, I realized that he has made me need him too.

It’s when you know that there could be a million stars that dot the night sky, but only one will shine unceasingly until you have been safely guided to port. A place for the heart to call home.

Years gone by now, there have been numerous chapters that started and ended with differing characters. And till today I know that giving up on him was, ultimately the hardest thing I had to do.

Yes, even harder than needing him in the first place.

Every time I mentioned I was sick, you would immediately check my forehead for a temperature.

Most of the times I’d roll my eyes because I didn’t even get the chance to further say that it wasn’t a fever..!

Thinking back now, I used to be so spoilt with attention, and I never did appreciate it the way I should have.. :)

Listening to John Mayer always transports me to years back, when he was a new name in the music industry and everyone would smile knowingly to his song, Your Body Is A Wonderland.

That particular New Year’s Eve, a friend of ours popped in John Mayer’s Room For Squares CD - “you guys HAVE to listen to this guy, he’s amazing” - and it looped endlessly from the first song to the last and back to the first, throughout the car ride to catch fireworks in the city.

Despite the joyful nature of the occasion, I was wrapped in a horribly foul mood, and you of course, noticed and kept nudging at me to cheer up.

Then the clock struck midnight, and the text messages bearing Happy New Year wishes came flooding in. My phone beeped, and the inbox showed your name.

The actual words of the text message escape me now, but it basically told me not to be so moody and to look forward to a brand new year with you and our other buddies. The SMS was very wordy, very naggy, with a pinch of impatience, and a large dose of affectionate charm all over.

And under the sparks and explosions in the sky, I finally smiled.

Am I living it right…
Am I living it right…
Why, Georgia why?

It’s the little things.

Like a spontaneous drive down to Bangsar for McDonald’s at 3 in the morning.

And on the brightly lit highway back to Cyberjaya, I see BK and XY are asleep in the backseats. But at the front, our conversation continues to flow like an endless river.

David Tao’s Hu Die (Butterfly) comes on and you smile, “This is a nice song, isn’t it?”

I nod.

You must not know it, but this precise song reminds me of you.

Mei ci yi jian dao ni, xin li hao ping jing, jiu xiang yi zhi hu die, fei guo fei xu…

I hear the chorus and with a sidelong glance at you, the meaning rings clear.

I was 18 and I had tasted joy in a way unfamiliar to me before - simple, pure and whole.

Back then we always talked about sitting at a sidewalk cafe on a breezy night, surrounded by city buzz and watching the world go by, feeling absolutely contented being held still by the moment.

It’s such a commonplace setting, it probably evokes a scornful, “Veli nice meh to do like that? It’s only Bintang Walk what…”

But with exchanged smiles, I knew that you understood the magic.

And it really is a waste how we never got around to realizing that silly little daydream of ours.