05 April 2016

Stories for My Roommate

Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start

Coldplay - The Scientist 

I was woken awake at 1:00 am earlier tonight after 2 hours of sleep. I barely sleep now, and even if I do, it’s when the lights are all on. The first thing I noticed when I woke up was your replies to my messages on WhatsApp. Before I dozed off, I was asking what you’ve been up to, and you told me you just got back from teaching tuition. You said life was tough, *crying emoticon*. I smiled a little. You still haven’t lost that childhood part of yourself. Maybe that’s what you’ve been holding on to to remain sane in this crazy world, I reckon. I wanted to ask if it’s because you’re expecting a child you feel like life is hard, but more than my worries that it’s an uncomfortable subject for you, it is me who is not ready for an answer. 

Nothing good comes after 2:00 am, we both learn this from How I Met Your Mother from those hours of marathon in our room cum occasional cinema theatre. Perhaps best explain why I’m writing this at 4:40 in the morning is a bad decision. I was about to reply your messages but darn it, it was 1:00 am. Your wife would scold me. 

The last time we talked about lots of things, I was still so very young. Or at least relatively very young. You would shock to know that hey, now I know my family has a saka (or lots of ‘em, I don’t know), and I’m likely the next in line. Yeah, cool stuff ain’t it bro. But nay, won’t tell you that. There are things far more important than family heirloom to be discussed between us.

If it’s a short update, then I’ll tell you I wrote a book about you. I know it would sound funny, because I wasn’t aiming to write that book as my first book. More importantly, hey goddammit, it’s a book about you. That itself raises a plethora of questions. Why? But it came off naturally one day, when I realised that it was the only thing feels closest to heart. And boy was it easy to write. I felt like you were talking to me the whole time I was writing. I sent the book to several publishers, KopiPress remained indifferent about it, LejenPress rejected it straightaway, and I’m waiting unexcitedly for the next rejection from DuBook Press. 

And if it’s even a shorter update, I would tell you the same thing like you would. Life was hard, and still is. The hardest part of living life is living one without you. I live the same routine, growing weary with each passing day with no friends to talk about it. You would be pleasantly shocked if I told you that I have nothing to look forward to except for my once a month outdoor activities, because my life is so depressing I needed a brutal escape from it. And more importantly, you would be pleasantly shocked because like you said, I’m not the outdoorsy type, and I was so very keen in proving you wrong. 

In case you’re wondering, I’m going to clear it once and for all that I have given up cooking. Be free to feel proud that you tasted my last cooking, because after we part ways, I have no motivation at all to continue that passion. I handed over my box containing all those utensils to my mother, and she gladly accepted them all. It was a hard decision because all the pieces contain traces of memories, but I needed to move on with my life, and letting go of those utensils are one of the many steps of moving on from a past life. 

I still drive past your faculty on my way to work, and no matter how much time have passed and how I consciously tried; I would still search for your motorcycle in the parking lot. That was a natural response to what was natural to me. I was looking for the remnants of your memories, the memories from the age of my life when I could not have been happier. That I had a best friend and no matter what happens, he would always be there for me. Sadly, I am all alone now. Searching for your motorcycle is like trying to search for your presence, trying to feel like nothing has changed. 

That would finally bring me to the last thing I wanted to share with you. I missed you a lot, like a whole ton lot. Sometimes when I’m bored, I played our conversations over and over in my mind, because they were so inspirational to me. With you, I never had to hold back from saying things. I don’t have to conceal my true feelings at all, because you were always listening (and then we both laughed at my stupidity).  

Things have changed, and we are both two other people on the world, trying to love and live with what we have. But no matter how much things have changed, I just wanted you to know that you are still my best friend. And I hope you still feel the same way about me.

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