i want to bury my face on your shoulder, breathe the scent of your hair and… cry….i wish i could touch you again. i wish i could still call you friend. i’d give anything… yeah i noe those last three sentences were from pink’s who knew song, but they never really meant much to me until you passed. i had to skip that song frm my mp3 everytime it appeared on the shuffle mode now…babe where you…
i think its hormones again. dun have my usual strength at composing myself. feeling more vulnerable than usual. feeling as crappy as last week’s laundry thats like rotting/moulding at the corner of my room. its home for this cicak that has JUST MOVED into my room. shows how bad i am at cleaning these days…
journey in bus no. 3 tonight was a torture. my eyes moistening, tears collecting at the bottom eyelids, threatening to drip and meander down my cheeks. had to stare hard at the scenery outside, willing the tears to stop, the cold air to evaporate them before they can stain my face. a few ppl looked at me, saw my red eyes. dead giveaway. curse these honest eyes. they gave me that curious expression, then out of courtesy, looked away. gave me space. then steal glances at me occasionally to see if ive broken down. as if after i got down from the bus, they gonna congregate and pay or collect money from their bets on me. “see! i BET she could hold it.” “damn, i thot she will blow after 6 minutes, tops.”
babe, i miss you. i need a hug.. no. i need many many many hugs. i dunno who to mintak. i never had a problem asking you for peluks. you stretched out your arms willingly and envelope me without making me feel needy. “mas, you dun malu malu mintak k”…
…comfort. babe, you were my source of comfort. of tenderness. of love.
recently, ppl around me kept talking about death, tahlils, people passing, losing loved ones, losing friends… some adopted an ‘all-knowing’ tone. some discussed the topic objectively. some were genuinely in pain, or in shock….thing is…is the whole world conspiring against me or smth? sensitive topic ppl! i noe ppl dun have a duty over me. they are not responsible for my feelings, my pain. they shouldnt bite their words JUST because MASH lost someone. but, can the world be a little bit kinder here?
F is arranging a tahlil for you soon. on the 137th day since you left us. it has already been 123 days. F said, cos 137 was your favourite number. i didnt know that. she looked at me querulously, as if saying “how the hell can you NOT know? i thought YOU were CLOSE to her??” i felt attacked. i felt as if i didnt live up to expectations,like i failed smth. i felt smth im so familiar with these days…but that F was smth. she just had to handle everything, cos she knows everything..i know im border-lining childish rage right now but i think one of these days shes gg to see my ringed-fingered fist slamming into her face.
but then again, i failed you in so many ways, din i, my dear? i searched our old blog for the number 137…you mentioned it ONCE, three years ago…how did F remember it? how come im always faced with repeated dawns of realization that im incapable of loving properly? i dont pay enough attention to details that normal ppl would care about. i dont make the people i love, happy often enough. i dont say or do nice sweet things to the ppl i love, often enough. i dont take care of their feelings well enough. i dont care enough. how come no one taught me all this social behaviour. why am i so lousy? i have love incompetency. and babe, you left even before giving me a chance to learn all of that.
im not even sure i will come to that damn tahlil. at least i will baca yaasin for you weekly. some of those girls cant even read yaasin so wads the point really? congregate and eat..? then go to kedai kopi bawah ur house to share jokes and gossip? i hate tahlils.
ive been avoiding our friends these days. replying their smses with short phrases. i cant bear to hang out with them cos i will reminisce abt you. i can so picture how reactions would be like, your facial expressions, how you interact with the different personalities in our group. how you tolerated me, or other meaner ppl ard you. you were kind..and so soo humble. i never felt patronized by you. you never boasted on your strengths, your patience…you never had that been-there-done-that tone. hmm…”kind and humble” someone said.
it hurts. dear azi, this hurts.
