Last Friday, I was in a very reminiscing mood (a.k.a “emo) which made me visit one of my old blogs. Clicking away on the back link, I stumbled upon one of my so-called writings.
Care to read? Click away!
There she was, sitting by the veranda, staring at the stars that illuminated the dark night sky. At first glance, you could see her smiling indicating she’s happy; but up close, her eyes tell otherwise. Actually, her eyes still hint a glimmer of happiness but overshadowed by grief…or was it just confusion?
She closes her eyes momentarily, takes a deep breath & let it all out in a jiffy. The veranda seems to be spinning & she concludes that the alcohol must be slowly kicking in. Afraid she’ll make a scene…yet again, she searches around for her friends. Scanning the rest of the room, she sees him. He was chatting with her friends. Obviously they were hitting it off as her clique seem to be laughing their heads off & at the same time keep on badgering him with lots of personal questions. She smiles & a wave of happiness came rushing through her system.
He saw her looking at him. He smiles & puckers up his lips as if to give her a kiss. She smiles & returns the air kiss he has just given her. He walks towards her & holds her hand. He squeezes her hand tight as if to say that he misses her. She squeezes back as tight as he did as she misses him too. They were just looking at each other, smiling.
She wants to tell him a lot of things. Of how she’s proud of him. Of how she’ll miss him. Of how much she loves him. She’s actually been telling him that; but this time, she wants to say it personally one last time. One last time. She didn’t want to think about that anymore but harsh reality sneaks up when you least want it to.
He’s telling her of the conversations he had with her friends. She’s smiling & looking as if she was 100% listening but she isn’t. She just couldn’t stop thinking of all the good times they had. She couldn’t imagine not being able to see him, hold hands with him, hug him, kiss him & share with him her day’s events. Sure, he’ll be just a few thousand miles away; but she just can’t help think that it won’t be the same anymore.
She wanted to say things to him. But she knows he’s heard it all. She doesn’t want to be clingy because she knows he hates that. She knows almost everything he wouldn’t like to happen to & with her when he leaves. She just knows.
He notices that she seems to be preoccupied. He asks her if everything’s okay. And her response, as always with a smile quite unreadable, is “I’m okay. I’m always okay.”