memories of a good friend.

4 days back into my old, boring life.

I am pretty much moving on, trying not to think so much of what happened. I laughed out a storm, had dinners, hang out with friends, played guitar,wore kebaya to class, jogged around Gelugor, smiled when I got average pointers, registered as a candidate in the upcoming campus election, slept in class, texted some random guy in class to refrain from sleeping, chatted with a tagteam/bff/brother about relationshits-- his and mine, drove around Penang in a friend's brand new sexy car, bought a Manchester United jersey at chowrasta for 10 bucks which was too figure-hugging and wore it to jog despite all the stares,

pretending

that I am not at all affected over what has happened. 

Truth is, I am. In most of the things I did, I just wish that that very person would be near. That he would be at least watching. That I would at least get to see his face, and see the stone-cold numb look on his face, the expression when he sees me now. He used to smile. A nice friendly smile.We used to be friends. He'd even say hello. I'd be nervous, the way a girl in a stupid American high school flick feel when seeing her crush across the hallway or something, but I'd say hello too because we were friends.

And now every time my phone rings I found myself praying hard that it was a text from him. And every time I jog I hope on mere coincidence I would bump into him, and in the cafeteria, choosing nasi lemak over sandwiches I would remember the breakfast we had and how he told me he doesn't eat spicy food or have his rice wet, and so I decided I'd go with the sandwich simply because memories about him makes me feel like I am close to him.

Like we were friends again, because I sincerely thought that not so long then, we were. I thought I heard him say I was his bff. 

Maybe I'm wrong. 

I'll just live with the memories. Memories of the things that we did, memories of the place we went, memories of a good friend.