this time around, amazingly, people had/have been coming up to me, asking if i'd truly have not met nas.

and in response to that, i (attempt to & usually pull off) honestly reply in sheer calmness. no.

then their next inevitable question which usually does not get verbally vocalized. their expressions can be very telling, i must say.

so hereby i tell you the truth. i'd be one fugly Pinocchio if i said i didnt miss doing all the things i cld.wld.wishishld do with him. and that i dont feel a teeny weeny ounce of sinful jealousy when i hear/read/see others dwell in their so-called freedoms with their significant others.

however i am aware. things are not entirely anything different pre-Ramadhan since that is the thing with us. we dont usually meet. period. it'd be wonderful enough if it was once a week (haha, if HE gets lucky) and mind you, we rarely stay nights out either as he believes in faithfully sending me home in time for ngaji or kelas agama. not that i am complaining.

so why should i start (lamenting) now right?

I''m thankful for one thing remains certain. we're sure on the phone a hell lot. Thank God for free incomings. and a working phone, alas! hehe. his & my words. ideas. thoughts. stories. life histories. insyaallah, these are the treasures I get to keep. we talk about anything, absolutely anything under the sun. what made our day, what ruined it. what went well and the oh-so-wrongs. people who matter to us (we try to fend off goss, but oh wells) problems. solutions. laughters. screams. predictions. baby names (tak abes, abes) and of course, near & far future plans.

but the best parts of them all are still whenever we have confessions about things that we feel apprehensive of sharing, but will say it anyway.

having him on the other line, hearing out what i have to say, acknowledging my side of things. THOSE are what really counts. and then come the thank-yous (we're not THAT formal to each other, but trust me, saying & receiving a sincere thank you can do wonders to the fluttering heart)

and then sometimes after i would have those conversations with him, hang up, and make my way to the washroom, i'd look at my disgusting self on the mirror with my pale skin, dry lips, sleepy eyes and major-messed-up hair. and i wonder, God, why me? why him and why me? hehe. then i'd snap out of it before parking my butt on the you-know-where.

because im worth it la, duh! ;)

so, on to answer those unnerving questions. i say:

it is better to affront the world while serving your consciousness
than to affront your consciousness trying to please the world

-humberto de campos