Ask Me

Photo Courtesy of Astu Prasidya

Photo Courtesy of Astu Prasidya


You never ask what I like from you.
I like your honesty
I like the way you talk to me
I like the way you carry yourself, so lively and vibrant
I like the way you see things, sometimes from a super weird perspective
I like the fact that you laugh a lot, and how contagious they are
I like the way you always got auto-corrected by your phone but never seem to bother although explain and explosion have a very different meaning
I like the fact you chased your niece across the playground while you were on the phone with me just because I wanted to hear you speak Spanish with her

You never ask what I love from you.
I simply love the chemistry between us.

You never ask anything from me.

Ask me anything.

The Infamous Emails

Photo Courtesy of Astu Prasidya

Photo Courtesy of Astu Prasidya


I sat in front of my laptop, composing an email to you. A long one. A sad one. A depressing one.
And your text came in, asked what am I doing. “Writing to you,” I said.
As if it was a cue, you started to talk about some funny stuff, followed by the list of things you want to do with me when we’re together, ended by thousand of I love yous.

I drowned in. Completely forgotten about the email I was supposed to send you.

How I admire the way you handle things.

Crazy Little Thing Called…

Photo Courtesy Of Astu Prasidya

Photo Courtesy Of Astu Prasidya


The word terrifies me.
It’s when your heart gets disconnected with your brain. And before you know, you’d start investing your time, your mind, your emotion, for another being.
You’d start to miss them when they’re not available for you,
You’d look at their pictures that you keep on your device,
You’d look at the time and think what they’re doing at that very moment.

And like everything else in the world, nothing last forever.
Life happened.
And the grieving starts.
And you just want to curl up on your bed, shutting down from the rest of the world.
Sometimes you’d replay some scenes between you and them a million times as to find the clue of what went wrong.
Was it this? Was it that? What? WHAT IS IT?

My phone made a beeping sound from an incoming text.
I didn’t want to see it at first because I didn’t want to hear anything from you.
But it was too late.
And of course, it was you.
“Are you okay? I love you.”

And I shiver.