To be loved or not.

More often we forgot how it feels like to love ourselves alone without the constant reminder that we are loved from other people. I think we often choose to co-relate our worth to being loved by others. When we lose one part, we naturally lose the other. We are not nice enough to ourselves to believe that we are someone worth loving without someone loving us. I mean, what is an artist without his or her hands?

I think most of us are just trying to be loved in the end. Whether be it in terms of power or money or people or fame. I think most of us are trying to find that feeling that makes us whole and worthy of something. I believe it's just as simple as wanting to be loved.

How to be brave.

Whenever my mum kisses me goodbye before going off in the morning, I want to tell her to take her with me. I will leave behind my life here in city and go home.

I will go back to hot dinner with my family every day. Back to my childhood best friend calling me to hang out at a place that I have went to for the last 24 years of my life. I will go back to a place where I know that the traffic light at the crossroad will take about 30 seconds before it's my turn to turn left or right. I will go back to the sea side that I grew up watching plane landings and horse races at, back to excruciatingly slow drivers on the right lane and all the lanes and food that is the epitome of home.

But I don't.

Instead, I tell her goodbye, closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

Tea and no cakes.

I have not seen him in a year. He has gotten a new hairstyle, new clothes. He has a new habit of running his hand through his hair when he's deep in thought or vulnerable. He said he has been trying to eat healthier, cut potatoes and rice. "More protein and veggies", he said to me, "It's better than not having anything to focus on."

We talked and laughed and enjoyed silence breaks in between tea sipping. Conversations filled to the brim with "I feel the same way too!", "How about you?", "I am really trying to be better," and "I need to hang out with you more often now that I'm back." I learn that he is really good with abs exercises now, likes the color green now and knows what he might do in the next 5 years career-wise. I have missed him. The last time I saw him, he was crying on his bathroom floor, paralyzed with pain. I have never seen or heard a heart break before. There was nothing I could do. How do you save someone who just lost his entire world?

Flash forward, there he sat. His world was rebuild, or at least that was what he is trying to tell me. We talked about everything but that night. I still didn't know why he disappeared, why he wanted to be alone. My questions were at the tip of my tongue. Anxiety had built up at the bottom of my stomach and has transformed into butterflies that might blurt out any seco-

"Why did you disappear?"

His eyes immediately clouded with disconcert, guilt and apologies. He lowered his gaze and knitted his eyebrows together. He continued to open and close his mouth with nothing coming out. He ran his hand through his hair, still looking down while clasping his hands together, left thumb on top. Of all the years I have known him, I know that when he clasped his hands together, he is in pain. My eyes flicker from the frown on his face to the left thumb that has now started to rub on his right thumb. I immediately regretted my question.

"I was in pain. I didn't know what else I could do..." He swallowed with his eyes fixated on the left thumb that never stopped rubbing his other thumb. "I know I shouldn't have done that but I don't know if I could still ask for your help anymore. It was beyond what you could give me. I had to go away..."

I took a huge gulp of water and blinked at him, confused. "You could have told me. You could have asked me to do something. I would anything for you." He still has not looked at me. His left thumb, still rubbing his right thumb. His lips, still a tight line.

Finally, he looked at me. I could see the pain reflecting in his eyes, his neck tensed while he was trying to keep himself together. Why did I bring this up and push him back to where he was trying so hard to get away from? "I still miss her. I still love her. I had to go away to know how to stop loving her." He swallowed again as if trying to gain what little bit of composure he had left. "I didn't leave because I didn't have believe that you will be there for me. I left because it was too painful to stay... I didn't know what else to do." He brought his hands to his chest and squeezed while taking a deep breath. The rubbing of his right thumb has slowed down but he still hasn't unclasped his hands.

The waiter came by to refill out drinks during the lull of our conversation. I had a feeling that I will be annoyed with her if she asked if everything was okay. Fortunately, guessing that she sensed the tension that was present within the radius of our table and she left quickly without a word. I was evidently still upset with him but he had good reason, personal reasons. I couldn't blame him for something that he had to do.

"What would you do if you had one wish?" I asked.

He chuckled weakly and his left thumb started playing with his right thumb nail. "Her," he said softly. "I want nothing else, no one else but her." I saw a small sad smile playing around the edges of his mouth, as if he was remembering something. He continued, "I still remember how I looked at her. I still remember how it felt like to kiss her. It felt like all the stars colliding into a bright meteor shower and the entire world disappearing. It felt like what forever should be like. It felt like everything that I wanted in every lifetime. It felt like she loved me too."