Friday, 22nd February.

Friday, 22nd February. A week and one day after Valentine's. I remember last Thursday. My best friend woke me up telling me it's Valentine's, cuddling me all over. I freaked because suddenly my morose world was shaken upside-down inside-out into a chaotic mess because of this single act. Of love. My world is not used to kindness. It is perfectly unkind. A single beam of love shone in my world will unleash nothing less than pandemonium within its depths. And that morning, a bomb was dropped in the form of a package containing Cappuccino sachets and a heart shaped chocolate and a jar of red strawberry jam.

I told him, apologetically, submissively, "Wonderful start to Valentine's..."
"Terrible start," he corrected me, with a chuckle. Then he said, "But don't worry. We can do Valentine's again another day, if you're not ready."

If life can be summed up in one word, it would be transience. Things come and go, and there is no holding on unless we are to perish also. Too many young people have perished with clutched hands clenching skeletons of things that have been and passed.

And me? I am fossilized. If they drill a hole inside of me, they would find oil. Liquid gold. My soul would make a good fertilizer. I have held onto every emotion and memory since birth. I am heavy with anger and resentment.

But I realize that it is not happiness that is transient, but sorrow.

Because bit by bit, I watch my world lighten. With every ray of kindness, I watch my world bury the seeds in hope that one day a tree will sprout.

Now, why did I mention the date Friday the 22nd? Because I have one. Tonight.

***

Epilogue
That same night, my best friend's apartment burnt down. The electrical wiring was faulty. We only found out the morning after. We had a great night. We went to a fancy restaurant, and stayed at my flat afterwards. We woke up the next morning and as we were having breakfast, we saw the news on TV. He could've died that night. But I guess God decided to save him. God probably decided that he is too important to be killed off. I mean, there wouldn't be much of a story otherwise.