That warm Saturday morning when I saw you being basked by the mid summer sun ray — you were barefooted, in your wide neck tank top and a floral board short, your hair was golden, glistened by the unforgiving bright sunlight — I knew that my artificial dream had almost came true.
Except that you never knew who I was, you never knew that I was seeing my dream materialized like riding on a ferris wheel — circling the horizon, up and down, the feel of being on top of the world, the soft silky gush of breeze that touched your face — gazing from afar.
You wouldn’t know. Because I didn't have balls to tell you that I wanted you. Not that I had balls in the first place (literally!), but if I did, I would. Because my jaw locked up like a constantly-smiling clown at a cheap fun fair.
And now you’re gone.
With that girl.
Who stole my dream.
On the mid summer morning.
"I Miss You"
25 July 2017
United Arab Emirates
After so many years, I am back in Stockholm. While walking down the alley, I couldn't help to recall the conversation we had a night before.
I thought finally, we had something in common. But I also forget that you can't be forgiving of me all the time.
We just need to get past through the period where things we should've said are kept unsaid, because to be honest, and to be fair, we both know the fact that I always make things worse, and you always pull yourself back. For once, a resistance from you would be good.
And as always, you play the good guy role once again, making me looks like an ungrateful 40-ish spinster who does not know how to say Thank You once in a while.
So this alley, and the leafless trees along the road, just an addition to the bland images of yours. For once I wished you were here, but the fact that you're actually not here, sends a chill relief down my spine.