a fragment of memory.

Me and my quirky ways and this stereotypical man boy, what a quirk of fate, having to be together. It's the little things along the way. The eating habits, the oddness there is to some of the things he does and how he acts, the silly things he does that gets you laughing, the look and sense of humour that gets you stumbling. 

The consideration and care he has for you, that mcd thing going on, thinking about it gets you reminded of the first time you met. It was all on him. What a sweetheart, first ever gentleman I've met, for a boy. My boy, man, well my everything under the sun. 

You'd think he's the right one by how it didn't ache the first time you said goodbye (like a sign that maybe this won't hurt the same), contented, you were, miraculously sure this time about whatever it is that this would become to be. At the end of the few months down this road each goodbye aches a bit more, like a hole drilled deeper in your chest; still the right one to you, but to fall so deeply now, makes it all harder. 

I've never dread a farewell so hard, I abhor watching him walk another way but I take a glimpse of it each time. No, I stare, I watch until I'm sure enough he's gone. I still can't get over the urge to chase after him each time I do. Seems almost impossible not to be left feeling empty. I find it amazing how things work, no matter how much it's going to hurt. Just like leaving home, him gone gets me homesick. I feel so much love each time it comes to mind or every minute I get to look at him, when it could all be taken away in a blink of an eye. It's not safe is it to love absolutely everything that comes with him around. But I utterly adore him, and I find it hard to adore anyone at all.

-riri-