whimsical

I remember going to meet you for the first time (on a whim, after you randomly suggested that you wanted to watch a movie), feeling a mixture of slight trepidation and hope, but never expecting that things would have turned out this way now. In fact, looking back now, I didn't know what I was expecting then.

The second time we went out was also spontaneous; we sat around Starbucks, me listening to a bunch of songs on your iPod, the titles of which I have largely forgotten now. I always have had a poor memory.

You looked the same as when I first laid eyes on you, in some lecture theatre during the first year of school. You were always lingering somewhere in my mind, even after more than a year since I first talked to you on that field trip to the zoo.

You intrigued me with your sense of enigma, you amused me with your overbearing-ness (ba dao). You were unique, different to most, and you still are.

You were the first girl in a long while whom I've felt something for.

I will never forget walking you home that early morning, after we traipsed for a bit around town. I know now that you never thought of us as anything more than friends, but I remember thinking how beautiful it was as the day broke when I was on my way home and how I was suddenly so insanely cheerful, as the light drizzle and the smell of the morning dew conspired to forever embed that magical (to me) period of time in my mind.
 
I am sorry if I bored you, or exasperated with my lame questions. I was simply trying to get to know you better, and I am sorry if I went about the wrong way doing so. Maybe I wasn't myself, maybe I tried too hard, but it doesn't really matter anymore now. 

Raj told me that as long as I tried my best, it would be okay. I did. You told me you did too, and I am grateful for that. 

This ended before it could begin, and I am disappointed, but I guess things just don't work out sometimes.  

It might take a while to get you out of my head, but from the bottom of my heart, I wish you all the best. 

PS: If you somehow happen to be reading this, I hope it doesn't cause any distress or anything. I just had to write it out.

I want to know why you are up at 2:09 a.m in the night, and taking half an hour to text back when you replied within two minutes to the message before.

I want to know who it was that you were glad to see yesterday; it couldn't have been me, because you weren't aware I was there in the first place.

I want to know why your weekends are so packed, and we can't meet up; I thought it went pretty well on the previous occasions when we went out.

I want to know whether you really would have turned away from my mouth on that night, or perhaps shrugged your hands away if I reached for them.

I want to know so many things about you, and why you guard yourself so fiercely when I am opening myself up to you (something that isn't easy too).

I want to know how to earn your trust, to know you better, to be part of your life.

I want to know your answers to my questions.

Answers which I know I might very well be unprepared for, but which I want to hear anyway.

That familiar tug at the heart-strings. The irrational concern, the constant worrying. 

Those two days were magical.

Now I am just afraid I've gotten greedy for more, and I am scared I won't ever experience them again.