I bumped into an old friend some moons ago. She said I’ve grown thinner, despite the scales telling me otherwise. I think the additional mass has gone to some other (hidden) parts of my body where only a *select* few have visual access to. And that is actually quite a lame thing to say when someone asks you what happened to your workouts. Believe me it is. And then she remarked that some people *do* get beefier, but not obviously so when they’re fully clothed. I think she was just being nice.

We had a simple meal, and a whirlwind conversation throughout. It felt like we were in some kinda Yattafying-capsule that could take us back and forth in time. We talked about how neither of us really made an impression on each other when we first met. As a matter of fact, I don’t even remember if we started speaking in English or Chinese back then. If it was Chinese, I would have most probably embarrassed myself badly. If it was English, she might have found me snobbish. All I know is, in the months that followed, our acquaintanceship hardly progressed.

But when I saw her it felt like we had known each other since last century. It was refreshing. We talked about our friends, friends’ friends and mutual friends whom I rarely hanged out with. If you asked me, I’d have preferred talking about her and her family instead. And then I contemplated telling her about how I felt about her. That moment I wish I had a bottle of vodka with me. Hadn’t felt like that in ages. I considered the fact that we still had a long night, so I decided to postpone it a little longer. And postpone it, I did. Yet again. I told you I needed booze. I pretended everything was cool.

I looked at her under the dim light, and tried to find that bruise she told me about. I hope she didn’t notice my curiosity. And then a waiter interrupted. Not the same guy this time, but the same question alright. I said “You’re the second person to ask us this.” He apologized and we laughed it off. That was when I was struck, once again. I hadn’t seen her smile or laugh a lot, but when she did I’d get a little emotional. She presented me with a little gift that night - something I couldn’t use everyday, but keep. As I walked her to her doorstep - a nice little place up in a brightly lit neighbourhood - I wished the day didn’t have to end.

P/s: Melodramatic? It’s the Monday…