story 13: love of strangers.

Is this normal?

Lately, I've talked a lot to strangers. I don't know maybe I just love the mystery. I find it exciting. Is it weird to say that I have the strong urge to randomly kiss strangers I meet in malls or so?

 Always wanted to 'hi' a stranger who won't ignore it or who is actually cool enough to have a chat maybe. The first time we met was on let say a Saturday at a coffee shop. Wait no, it was at I don't know the streets maybe and I was high. I was running around skipping, shouting, jumping, twirling when I accidentally bumped into him and I apologised. Still high, I just stood there and stared into his eyes. He went all "Whaat? why are you looking at me like that?" and that made me laugh. I tried talking but I kept giggling in between each couple of words. He was walking away. "Waaait!", he looked back. "I'm riri. you?" I started talking gibberish just giving him more reasons why he shouldn't hang around but he did. We started talking and talking non-stop. It was getting late but you know it's cool. 

It's fun opening up to people you don't know when you know you won't see them again. It's fantastic. It starts there and ends there. 

 And for weeks, each Tuesday we would meet again at the very same place, talking about how our day or week was. Sometimes random shit. I was always with a bag of Doritos, we'd share that. In return he'd buy me a drink. He was older, 4/5 years difference. I called him Cig because he keeps nagging on how I shouldn't smoke. He would take it away and take some for himself. Ass. He's 5 ft 5, jet black hair, light brown eyes, slim with a "every sinner has a future" tattoo on his right arm. He looked like a mess, a hot one. He was pretty amazing. He didn't judge me for what I do or done. "I know why and what made you do it" he would say. I dig him and his stories. He'd tell me what he thought about things, everything, anything. I'd sit and listen, he's different. I like that shit. There are moments where he'd stop and look at me beaming, then he'd put his hand on my head and give it a little nudge then give out a little laugh while he's at it. I'd get berserk like "What are you laughing at dammit?!".

 Sometimes he'd hug me, so tight and I felt like I couldn't just let go of this, of him. I don't wanna go home. I could feel him getting all teary, crying silently. 

The last time we met, I ask for his number. It shocked me how he gave it to me. I was just kidding at first doubting he would give it. We text sometimes yknow when he was free. One day he text me "I don't think I could go on like this". I couldn't understand. "I'm running out of time. I gotta go" he added. What did he meant by that? Where was he going? Then he called.. 

 Me: Hey..are you okay? 

Him: Babe.. I

Me: what? whaat? 

Him:... Me: Fuck it! What?! Cig *cries* Tell me please.. 

Him: I.. babe.. I, I've always love.. 

Me: Love, love what? Come on man don't do this to me...please. 

Him: You. I love you. Remember 

Me: *stunned* *takes a deep breath* I, me too. I love you too. 

Him: So much. 

Me: Yeah. 

 tuuut tuuut tuuut tuuut - the line got cut off. shit. 

 I never heard from him after that. A couple of months I've waited when I got a letter, it was from Cig, the date was on a few weeks before we lost contact. I got the letter late, how? He, I lost him to lung cancer. I LOST HIM. That last night where he gave me the tightest hug he'd ever gave, was the last hug he would ever give. Who would have known the first time the word "I love you" ever came out from him, his mouth itself, to me, was also the last. Tuesdays never meant the same to me ever again.

Yours truly, riri.