I last met you nearly two year ago.



While I was struggling with my physics notes, you boarded the train. 'A' Level Physics would start in another 1 and a half hour's time. I wished I had finished studying all my notes, not just 43% of them. Not because I didn't want a C as my grade, but because I have endless things to say. To you.

I chose reading the notes, instead of talking to you. I oughted to be shot. I didn't get your phone number. I oughted to be shot twice.

I vowed to get your number next time I see you.



I saw you again yesterday, on 10 Oct 05. You were at Heeren. You wore a green top. You looked beautiful. I was wearing my fugly work attire, spotting unkempt hair and was going down the escalator. Unshaven. We looked at each other initially in doubt, but eventually recognised each other.

We exchanged smiles. Yours was sweet. Mine shld be highly sour. That's all. No phone number exchange again.

I did not rush upstair, where you are, to find you. I wasn't even rushing for time. I continued to walk on.

You were waiting for someone. I feared that that someone was your boyfriend. I continued to walk on.

I knew I would miss you. I continued to walk on.




(Someone pls just sneak up to me commando-style and break my neck to kill me)


(Just joking)

We may meet again 2 years later. I hope you're not someone's wife then.

I continued to walk on.