Silent Understanding

So I guess this it. This is the moment where we split ways, in silence. 

We probably knows that if we start talking again, we will go back to square one, and with each passing day we only fall deeper and deeper. 

So instead, no matter how much it hurts, we wipe our tears away, held our head up high, and continue our journey in life.

There might not be another hug, another caress, another kiss
There might not be another late night chat, another dinner, another picture taken.

And the seafood we want to try, the holiday we plan to have.. There might not be any of those too.

And eventually your bluetooth will forget my number, and this time you won’t need to re-program it anymore because there might not be another phone call to make as you driving home from our get together.

In less than twenty four hours, I will leave the country. I wish I could take my heart with me. But I know it won’t happen this time. My heart and mind will stay here.

With you. 
With our memories.

And I love you, still.


Crossing the Universe

Somewhere in a parallel universe, I wear your ring, you wear mine. You nag at me for being so messy, and I sulk while trying to organize the chaos I produced. Yes, we still fight – or having arguments, as you always put it, but not the kinds we are having now. We still have insecurities, but these too will be different ones.

We’d cuddle in the sofa numerous nights as you watch your series about the pilot wives thingy while sipping your tea that I made for you. Two table spoon of sugar, dip the tea bag for five minutes, and stir longer than mine.

Around 10 or 11 we’d go brush our teeth and head to bed. We’d kiss good night, and you will read your books while I play my online games before we doze off.

Somewhere in a parallel universe, our life is different. We love each other fearlessly, we are each other’s priority, and I get to see you in your glasses.

There is one thing that stays the same, though.

We still cannot resist each other.

Seven Days After

So we met again, 7 days after. Without alcohol, without the nervousness of a first meet up, without the hassle of advance preparation. We were just two souls wanting to see each other again.

Yet, 7 days after, you still smell so nice, still look effortlessly gorgeous, and whenever our eyes locked during the conversation, I swear my heart skipped – not only one, but two beats.

And gosh… The impulse to touch and kiss you were ridiculously unbearable.

I. Crave. You.

Even more now.

More than 7 days before.

Things I Don’t Write

Photo Courtesy of thousandofdaysforyou

Photo Courtesy of thousandofdaysforyou

My post today will not be about how wonderful it is to be able to spend time with you, nor how special it was for me.

This post will not be about how lovely you are, nor how comfortable you made me feel.

And although I could describe how nice your scent is, how warm your hug is, and how kissable those lips are, this post will not be about all of the above.

No matter how true they are.

Teenage Professional Adults

Blurred my name on purpose

disclaimer: blurred my name on purpose

Today I got a pleasant surprise from you. As if you already knew how terrible today would be for me.

I had endless meetings here and there, hardly eaten anything, terribly dependent on coffee to kept me going. And by 5PM I was already tired, in my worst mood, and super cranky.

Until I went back to my place and saw something on my desk.

A bouquet of beautiful fresh flowers.

My initial thought – that came across my hazy mind, was that someone must have mistakenly put that flowers on my desk. And then I saw the red card. With my name on it.

I was stunned. No one has ever sent me flowers. Yes, in my entire existence that is.

I rushed off to open the card, half panicked half excited because I didn’t know who the romantic sender was. The first thing I saw was your initial. Come to think of it now, I guess I read it the wrong way – bottom to top instead the other way around. But who cares? My endorphin levels skyrocketing to the roof. Nah, the roof is not even high enough.

After unsuccessfully composing myself; read: hysterical, I texted you to say thank you. You were pretty cool about it. How I wish I could read your mind at that exact moment.

“I am a person of action.” I remember you said that in one of our late night conversations. And today, I am impressed. Not only that you are a person of action, but also a person of your word.

And wow… how lucky I am.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

Yet another restless night. Thoughts are running wild, images starting to flash. One by one they turn into frames. Frame by frame they turn into a movie. A bad movie.

I’ve always thought that one day I can slip out and fly away. But days had turned into weeks, weeks had turned into months, months had turned into years. My heart betrayed me. It refused to listen. I wish I could just rip it off my chest and throw it into the trash.

So here I am, sipping on a cup of tea at 4 AM, still waiting for my wings to grow. And I feel like giving up.

The clock is ticking. I had to quit you.

Here’s to Another Year

image source:

image source: google

I just celebrated my birthday a few days ago. In a foreign country, far away from my family, far away from my best-friends, far away from you. I thought it was going to be awful. I’ve prepared to just go to work as usual, and spend my evening in my hotel room, pretend it wasn’t my birthday at all. That it’s not a big deal. That birthday celebration is overrated.

Until one of my local friends called and asked me whether I’m free to hang out after work. Of course I said yes. Better than curl up under my blanket alone.

Apparently, she brought me to a bar in a helipad (yes, HELIPAD! how cool is that?) and threw a surprise party for me along with some of her friends. It was awesome. We then went club-hopping afterwards. The whole night was a blast.

I did think of you, though. Wishing you were there with me. But then I realized, I should probably let that feeling go. No more you on my mind, no more you in my heart. I have to let you go.

So here’s to another year of trying. Cheers.