Ideal.

I waited for him at the subway station where we agreed to meet prior. I was excited, elated, nervous all in one sparkling of emotions.

It was him we are talking about. The one who stole my heart just by being himself.

I stole few glances at the book put beside me by a stranger. What an eloquent description and words string together in such a beauty. If it wasn’t  of the cold wether and i was trembling, i would have asked the tile of the book or the author.

A tap on my shoulder surprised me. I let out a soft shriek. And there he was, with his blue glasses, uncomb hair and a goofy smile. He whispered hello and i replied a long hi, at my best effort to conceal my emotion from the surface.

Muse and horcrux

Do you remember who Voldermort is?

Do you remember of all his horcruxes?

Without you even realize, we do have horcruxes in our lives.

Take that Signorina beautiful smell for example; it reminds me to the event when he darted me with those sharp looks and the intense argument we had in the car. The last conversation we had during dinner that shattered my heart into pieces and I cried as I saw all those built dreams I had in me to be with you became small crumbles as I paced hastily to my car and wiped rolling tears on my cheeks. I had enough and I had my answer.

The kind of pain that made me forgot of how sweet you were as a friend, neither more nor less.

As cliché as it sounds, I did love you enough to let you go without a glimpse of vengeance I had in me. Of course, it took months and as much as I am happy, I want you to be happy too.

In one of Gossip Girl’s episode, Dan mentioned that to be a writer, you need a muse. And Serena was his muse.

For you who did not know, Dan Humphrey was THE Gossip Girl. Most of his entries revolved around Serena hence, Serena disappeared Gossip Girl went mellow and shy with no updates.

That is not how life works. At least, not for me. I might lose B as my muse the moment he reluctantly disclosed the truth, which was hard enough to dig from him, but right there and then I got my answer.

Along the way, I’ve found another muse; the one with sweet smile, kind-hearted and groomed hair that made my heart melted like a chocolate under scorching Rome sun, every single time.

candy crush.

Why doesn’t he like me already?

 I mumbled, loudly enough for a friend of mine to hear. Well, I expected some solacing answer.

He looked at me, then his attention dissolved into the thin air. His eyes was fixed back to the phone screen, playing game.

It has been two weeks already. (!!!)

 I resumed my ranting and kept on about things I should’ve changed to get my crush’s attention.

My friend muttered something about waiting, but dude, seriously, waiting was an ordeal for me.

(eye) (candy) (Crush).

Wow. I felt so old saying or even typing/saying that word out loud. That word itself attached to a few of quondam lovers which I owned since I was 16. Talking about the one with thick eyebrows, few creases appeared on his forehead when he frowned, tall and cute!

Wait a second!

And his hair! My very first crush had that spikey-peaks hair that was widely famous back then. Now, it all seems so clear for the one basis that I always hold on to which is, to look at hairstyle as criteria. Ammette (okay, I referred the first crush of mine as Ammette, not his real name though) had always carried a neat and groomed hairstyles even a few years after when I accidentally bumped into him in my office. Strewth! i gazed at him with astonishment, never had it occurred to me to see the chap that used to mean the world to me appeared right in front of me as if like nothing has changed. He was still tall (stupid statement, no one gets shorter. Teeheee!) and needless to mention his hair. My heart yelped out his name because I was too excited and dumbfounded because even without any feelings left for him at that point of time, I still did regard him as one of the people I used to know. Nevertheless I just pursed my lips shut, walked straight and didn’t even look back until after few times encounter due to work related purposes.

So I digress.

I was supposed to be talking about my wilted, short-lived (supposed to be) aroha for this one particular new guy I just met but I had spent the last hour babbling about Ammette, the past flame.

There’s nothing random in this world, it all…… (insert something,something) according to a friend of mine. The sentence is longer though but I was too busy staring at someone’s eyebrows during the meeting so, I forgot. Hehe

For the record, let’s imagine Ammette the fictional character looks more or less like this okay?