sometimes even I am a little taken aback by how fast my tear flows at the thought of you.

People will probably say it's ok to cry, but I'm just so very worn out.

you move, like liquid gold. your steps light and purposeful yet vague.. absent-minded, bewildering. a pause stretches for infinity as you look, arms out akimbo as you seemingly ponder the mysteries of your world. you blink, slow and beautiful, lost, out-of-sync with this world, your natural rhythm always a step slower.

quiet you are, but yet you stand out, with the strange graceful awkward ease that comes to mark your every act. still, what goes on through your mind? you look but never seem to comprehend the complexities and intricacies of this world. your brain seems to be an endless sponge; you soak up but never speak a word.

I wonder about the many worlds that must exist in your head, yearning, so much, to explore all the secret passage ways and slides that connects these strange existence together.

and some things still hurt but wounds heal dear, they really do.

(:

this still makes me smile-

I remember in the last few weeks of our relationship, you acted like a kid when we went out on dates.

We would be holding hands, looking at stuff. I would say something to tease you, just a little. Suddenly you would fling my hand away, crossing your arms and stamping your feet, whining, even.

I would look stunned, and you almost hurriedly took my hand back again. I never knew what was going on through your mind then. Were you worried that I thought it too childish? Did I seem that stunned and shocked? Ah, but I wasn't. It was all silliness, and going back home I was still amused, my heart light with joy as I recall every movement, and thinking how lucky and blissful I was, to see so rare a side of you. Trying my very best, to tuck, every single second into my heart's treasure box, stuffing my memory's lockets with all your images.

I love you, and miss you, be it that it was all in the past.

this this this sums up what has been on my mind for so so long.

lovesick-

you got my love and heart, you got it good.

cryptic-

it's been so long, yet your numbers are still the basis of my security.

some days I lie on my bed and muse about numbers and math, and imperfect symmetry.

from one jagged end to a small slight curve, and all the mathematical functions in the world, contemplating if there was ever a code out there to decipher; a secret compartment that springs open to reveal the final missing puzzle piece.

I wonder.

do you still remember-

The feeling of falling/being in love; where your heart seems to come alive with movement, movement going through and in the heart, swelling it up so so much. So full and so bursting with I-don't-know-what, a rush of positive little beings seeking to bring your heart away like a hot air balloon, oh!

Those nervous little jump your stomach does as you prepare about to meet him, and that huge sigh of relief that washes over your body when you realise, it's ok, he's gonna talk to you still, you have not done anything to scare him off... yet.

Crazy overwhelming feelings that just floods over you, and makes you feel like your heart is not your own (be still, my beating heart!)

That puppy love.

I love you.

But that doesn't change anything.

I miss,

the weight of your head as you fall asleep on my shoulder, worn out and tired, and getting to slip my fingers into your hand and write "I love you" without you knowing.

But missing is but a feeling, and with time the yearning grows less. Dreams die, or perhaps new dreams come. Life's good and there's things to be thankful for - it's all ok.

"boo!"

I miss saying this so much.

and you were so many things-

like a friend, yet not a friend. like a brother, but not a brother. an ex, without the bitterness. like a soulmate, but never one. I've been trying to neatly categorise you but you defy it all. you've always liked a little ambiguity in your relations with others.

you started as this random tall guy from this other church. pastor's kid. I scoffed at you, I remember scoffing at you. you were trying to hide the fact or something, maybe because people have always judged you based on that, and I went, "right, so what? you're not the first pastor's kid I know."

so what indeed. we were in the same group for the children's camp, you stayed back for a prayer walk (that never materialised) instead of joining your mates to paint the church. we ended up talking, now and then again throughout the mission trip. told you where I was from, what I did.

you were tasked to collect our emails, I think I told my friend to pass my email to you when we get back to singapore or something. the friend unceremoniously dumped you and me into a "mass conversation" and then disappeared.

you told me stuff. I laughed at how they teased you due to our names, since my own church never ever realised/bothered. I laughed a lot, you made me laughed a lot. you were funny, a joker, a nice person to talk to. you seemed to know so much. we shared some interests. food, cycling, nature.

we met up a few times, once every school holiday, and you would always bring me to new places. I remember how the word ugly once flashed into mind when I saw you, something that shocked me then and still shocks me now, because I never really thought of anyone that way. though hahah I guess I can say I really liked you for your personality then?

from some random guy friend, to a guy friend I ended up speaking to every night, to a close guy friend. long msn conversations, sharing the events of every day with you, happily jabbering on like some bird. you were my coinspinnner, my wayfinder, and you would try your very best to be my woundhealer. friends, not-friends, friends again. guardian, protector, dear.

secret keeper, dearest, confidant, partner, forever, and always.

ex, hurt, pain, inflicter.

and here we are again. a friend, the ideas-giver, the rational solutions, the problem-solver, one of the few I'm absolutely comfortable around with, my sounding board, an advisor. some days I feel like in a way you know me the best, you know what people might love about me, and you know what people might hate about me. you've been on the extremes of the spectrum, and now you're neutral, objective, polite. I know there's no longer the love I used to know, nor the same kind of care. but we talk, senior, junior, about this, and that. and it's good this way. there's no want to get back, there's still some sore spots, but somehow, despite all, I trust.