metamorphosis

back then, when i kept having to steal his cases.

little things that accumulated when you’re not looking.

there was a story of a boy, who loves a girl with all his heart. when he’d finally mustered up all his courage and decided to confess how he really felt for her, she told him that - no, she didn’t feel the same. they then both walked away.

with a smile, the boy later joined his friends, who were all there to witness the rejection. puzzled, they asked the boy: ”why aren’t you sad despite being rejected by the one you love?”

the boy replied: ”why should i be sad? she has lost someone who truly loves her with all his heart; but i only lost someone who’s never even loved me in the first place,”

what are the odds of seeing these two together again in the same basement car park at the office? 

they were buddies before, almost always found parked side by side. but now the poor black horse had undergone some major surgery, and the red horse… the red horse never parks at that area any more. that area became emptier than ever since the black horse has left and never came back.  

he likes the term ‘Sr.’ in his title, he mentioned.

fred has left for slightly over two months now. i am not sure how have i managed to get through all those miserable lunches on my own for that long. the longest period of time i’ve been away was only seven weeks. the thought of fred packing his rice and having it in his car, under the shades of the trees along one of our little hideouts back then still bears an ache in my heart, somehow. odd but true. 

it’s undoubtedly the most vulnerable period that i have to go through, without fred to protect me. 

fart has to hang on, just a bit more to go. it may be a crawl, but i’ll get there soon.

”i know where to put up at for the night.. a place that you’re very familiar with,”

he insisted that nothing has changed. but when i stepped in, i was startled by its emptiness, and yet with a distant picture of us hanging around, enjoying countless moments of meals, movies, crazy taxi.. among others. then i began to realize how long it’s been since i’ve last stepped foot there, when it used to be twice, or at the very least once almost every week.

now fred doesn’t even live there anymore.

sometimes i think it’s the knowledge of our limited time together that sparked. taking the moment, and making it perfect. even for the very last meal, he made sure that it’s what i really wanted to have, when in fact, it didn’t really matter. i would enjoy it anyhow, but i wish that it wouldn’t be accompanied by that sinking feeling of not knowing what’s next after i board the plane.

a week later, it all came back to me, hitting me harder than i could handle. we all knew what was next, it’s just finding the grip to cope that is the biggest challenge because i told myself: from now on, i am doing it all alone. period.

felt the pang at my heart when he still geared up to show me his world, despite an uncomfortable, restless night the night before. he guided me through the small town where he grew up in with fractions of his childhood memories. like fitting in the right pieces in a puzzle, i could slowly picture little mischievous fred roaming around and eventually growing up to where he is today. 

and finally, i could taste his all time favourite fried noodles with bacon that i only heard about previously. finally putting a sight, taste, sound and feel to things that i could only imagine before this, was quite an interesting experience.

unwinding the day with a good massage, and rolling into bed with a movie that i’ve been looking forward to catch was pure bliss. i was glad to have waited to watch it with him.

a week later, i was so deep into depression that i couldn’t even bring myself to talk to the same person whom i’ve spent such special moments with. there were no words to describe, no help i could get, so i shut out.

the perfect lazing sunday. couldn’t blame him for how he wanted to prioritize things by stepping away to make a phone call, guess i should’ve managed my own expectation better anyway.

a week later, the moment i stepped out of my home, everywhere i went to seemed to remind me of the times that we’ve been there together.