01 24 19

Monkey,

I.
Today after dinner, I watered the plants you took care of for ten months. I was sitting at the make-shift bench where we often sit when we go for our yosi and coffee breaks. I was sitting there in contemplation, thinking about you, tracing your silhouette as I imagine you're there. I inhaled slowly and carefully, savoring the moment--each laughing and arguing moments-- reminiscing the times we've frequented the spot and the memories we've made as we inhaled and exhaled the cigarette away.

It was melancholic. What used to be a jamming spot that hosted a lot of our memories now felt so quiet and empty, for it only echoes in memory. I deeply wondered when the next session would be, because it hasn't been a week since you left, so it's normal that we haven't plan your return yet. But still, I kept wondering. Because all I could ever do right now is miss you, and wait for you, and perpetually wonder about your return--stuck in incessant reruns. So I smoke a stick of cigarette carefully, hoping the each and every puff brings me closer to you.

II.
The melancholy that I was feeling earlier was replaced extreme glee brought about by a good news. The talk you had with Phen was heartwarming, moving and touching. I know you're filled with joy and have had a sigh of relief after your talk. And I'm happy to know you're happy. I am proud of you for being so brave and honest to him, and I am equally happy that at such a young age he has a very open mind and very big heart. You've raised him well. You're a good person through and through--I couldn't ask for more. I am eternally thankful that the Universe has brought us to each other.


Loving you so much,
Babi.