Mixed tape

I: the unpredictable

A battle against time, a battle of exchange glances, a battle of growing up, a battle of unspoken strings of words. A never-ending battle of joy, fear, lust, sorrow, happiness, seems way too far-fetched from easy. Some called it a war, some called it an untamed force, some went through hell to give it all up, while others called it — love.

One of those suicide-runs evenings turned into gorging unhealthy foods down the throats seems way to familiar to forget. The usual eight surrounds the perimeter of the table, flipping greasy menus without surprising any with the usual mundane choice of orders. With that one short glance across the table, and there she was was, sending butterflies into my gut with a mere frown from the indecisive facial muscle. Just like the life cycle of a butterfly where magic happens following the transformation of the wings from the cocoon depicts otherwise where friends turn into lovers. Wrong. Friends turned into strangers was a better analogy. As cliche as it may sound, right in the midst of desires, wants and unfavourable thoughts. Another 'her' was always there.

That night, drinks were a plenty. Drinks that were non-alcoholic made us dizzy in our own ways, probably due to the early dawn air we breathed in. We drafted out the routes to send the rest home but found ourselves half-dead at the almost end in the west. That night, hovering the half-closed eyes, she saw the tears that wasn't meant for her, she made comments that were hurtful yet truthful. She listened to the grumbles that probably didn't make any sense. She held on till dreamland took us away. That very same morning, our lips touched, accidentally yet magically over a childish bolster fight.

Subsequently, the leaves that summer unfolds itself and the rest was history. Flashbacks of flirty but meaningless conversations resurfaced, stupid truths-and-dares sessions from unorganised camps and barely even two straight days of words exchange. Almost impossible to claim that that couldn't beat magical.

Awkward late night conversations with natural facial blush, heart throbbing eye contact moments that sent shivers right down to your bone and occasional peck on the cheeks that sends you to cloud nine almost instantly. When it turned into nights in her arms, you knew you were on the right track. 27th June 2015, we started counting the cringe-worthy days that we didn't mind.

It was a roller coaster ride, day in day out. Did I mention that we were a great fan of it? That short exchanged of glances across the school blocks that led to giggles. The smile that greeted you right after working with tears-choking kids, were her hands that was filled with my favorite unhealthy snacks. The dramatic scenes from birthdays to random surprises that shout right from the heart. The after-school hour food marathon with satisfying bellies. The spontaneous weekends filled with tear-filled laughters and lame-ness. The lazy days filled with empty programs but leaving your heart full. The disastrous attempts in the kitchen that sweeps you off your feet despite the awful taste buds. Handmade-almost-everything filled with love that constantly oozes the warm fuzzy feeling through the heart. We were so sure we had it all, we had 'forever' hanging like decos oh so often that were were 100% positive the walls were bullet-proof. Period.

Maroon 5 said 'it's not only rainbows and butterflies but compromises that moves us along', nobody could agree less. Find someone who lives in a 110% buffet-proof love bubble and you will be awed that you're definitely in Mars. The bickers, quarrels, screams, unreasonable tantrums were inevitable. It was crazy in fact. But the crazier fact was, she didn't leave. The random outburst of hormones when she choose a Friday night with friends over staring into laptop screens with me was just mere childish. The random verbal diarrhea of 'let's break up' came with ease knowing that it wouldn't happen somehow, somewhat. She took it all like a vodka shot down the throat. Nah, the burning sensation through the throat didn't hurt, but rather the swallowing of words that cut right through the heart did.