Even After What Had Happened

I want you to walk in to this restaurant right now, where I am having a meal with few of my friends on a rainy Thursday noon. I know this is the place where you like to order Chinese food from when we were together and being lazy under the warm dolphin-patterned blanket that you got from your mum two Christmas ago. 

And when you walk in, I would avert my face away, pretending not to see you while my heart raced so fast it almost fall from my ribcage.

I will hold on for five minutes, pep-talking myself to be harsh. "Fiya, be mean. You can do this." It wasn't a tough break up but I have to be more assertive unlike jellyfish without spine. Over the past months, I have been trying to build this fortress to keep me away from you. Just because I needed to, just because you are still ever so inviting even after what had happened.

But soon I couldn't help to look at you and as our eyes accidentally met, I would melt like lava that slurred down the curves of an exploded mountain to your feet.

And then, I would have to say hi - with the utmost nervous, shivering voice. Right there, with all the failing plans of being stern, I would find myself back to ground zero. And I have to start to forget you all over again.

That's what's going to happen if you walk in to this restaurant now.

I would be a mess but I do still want to see you.