The missing piece

As I inhale the aromatic jasmine scent from my incense burning at the corner of my table and sip my warm milo, I can't help but feel happy for LY who just got married today. She told me that her husband and her had been together for 10 years, marked and they live their life quite in separate ideologies but rather do it together and legally - FINALLY!

Well said and practice when LY doesn't mind her husband going around tables cheer-rings without her, KTV without her, hanging out with his buddies after the dinner without her. To my surprise, LY can do the same ... and she did. Kinda awesome to find how they fit into each others' life so simply.

I am awed, struck by the idea how two different people can live together. Good teaching in life about adaptation and acceptance. And so I became anti social, leaving them to post-parties and post-drinking activities. As I drive down LDP with lightning and thunders occasionally lighting the skies ... it began to pour moderately, modestly and melancholy. Three years ago, somewhere between the same time ... I was driving down the same road, teary ... waiting to crash my car into something but I didn't. So did tonight. I arrived home safely.

As I applied my pore refining serum after shower, I can't help but miss a dear friend. A lot of things run thru my head in the 40min drive home. The puzzle continues in the shower and somehow, a deeply buried feeling was raised. I feel stagnant ... and I keep hearing his voice. His voice of asking me to be me. Just me, a happy me.

A dear friend who had went missing after his departure to Japan from US. A Malaysian friend who I called Ah Wei. I really do not know where he is now, how is he and to be honest, if he still around. I miss hugging him and definitely miss him telling me that one day I will be someone special, but I have to stop crying. In his terms, being sad and depress. Lately, that kinda feeling come and goes - making me feel very unstable and in constant need for company.

I really do miss Ah Wei.

As the thunder roars and I can hear Ah Foo busy himself downstairs, probably afraid of the echoes. My eyes are half-closed now. It happens when I refuse to face my problems, subjecting to the solution of sleeping on it.