Rain, ring and Maddox.

(Warning: This entry might make you kill yoursef, or worse, throw up yet still be alive. So read at your own risk)

I was walking home from a friend's place tonight and the rain could not have poured at a better time. I was soaked and cold, of course. But oddly enough, it felt right. Giggling at every instance I stepped foot into a puddle. And not getting in the least bit annoyed at the fact that I got my new shoes wet. Hmm, could this be what they mean by.....nevermind. Let's not jinx it. Now I'm clean and warm within the four walls of my apartment. And in a moment of solitude such as this, nothing makes it more worthwhile than a hot cuppa and Keyshia Cole's Love on repeat.

*

This quizzical mind is at it again. Tonight of all times, it goes wandering - as it tries to unravel the most complicated and intricate of all mysteries. So, what do people really look for in a relationship? Some say, companionship. Some say, security. Some say, sex. Some say, respect. And some naively and unknowingly say, love. As for me, I don't know what I want. Or to be exact, it doesn't matter what I want. But if we're still allowed to wish once in a while and if truth be told, what I want is simple. Every morning I see lots of old couples on the tube. Sharing a bagel, sharing a cup of coffee, sharing a laugh. Even at an old age, there's still so much love in their eyes. Laughing at the simplest facts. Talking about the most trivial of things. Like the candy wrapper on the floor. Or the funny voice of the tube driver over the speaker. Even the weather. Anything. And it's that look and smile they exchange from time to time. A look which says that everything will be okay. Don't care if the tube is delayed, don't care if we're late, don't care if these bags are heavy. Don't care if we get lost. We'll manage. I've got you. The look of reassurance. That could probably be it.

*

I have a friend. Let's call him Mr. S. Mr. S and I go way back. He claims that he first saw me at my school carnival. I didn't remember seeing him there.

My school carnival? Which one were you?
I was the one in the black Garfield cap.

Haha, so can you really blame me? After that school carnival, Mr. S asked for my phone number and started calling the house. He also kept hanging up whenever my dad answered, which drove my dad up the wall! Once, Mr. S asked me to be his date for his friend's birthday party. He got a new shirt and declared his singlehood. I was going to agree, when I found out that he's got his strings very much taut and attached to his girlfriend of 4 years, as at that time. I thought, "Woah, messy." So I stood him up, he got upset and that was the beginning to our strong and beautiful friendship, which up to today makes it 10 years and a bit.

Mr. S and I have a rather 'weird' friendship. We're hopeless at keeping in touch. We never call, never email. Most of the time, we just assume that the other person is healthy and well. The only time we bother to pick up the phone and make that long-distance call is when there's an 'emergency'. For instance, when he called me and said, "Hey, in about an hour, can you send me a fake text saying that you need to meet me and it's urgent. I can't stand this woman." Or, when one of us has landed into a catastrophical love debacle that calls for the attention and advise of the other. It could have been 6 months since the last phonecall, or 3 am in the morning or we could be separated by oceans, but when it comes to our 2-hour long therapeutic sessions, we make time. A friend in need, is a friend indeed, no?

Occassional phone calls and stories exchanged and favours granted. What I also remember is our brief and rather one-sided conversations. It was 6 o'clock one morning in New York , and he rang me up only to say, "I'm done. I'm over her. I am officially over her. Bye." *click* And I went back to sleep.

But what I found in him, was not a preacher of the right from wrong, because when it comes to love, what is right and what is wrong? It's the matters of the heart. And it's these matters of the heart that we see eye to eye on. Like its incompatibility with logic. Its desires. How it knows pain, but it yearns again. The sacrifices and the stupid things we do in the name of love, yet nobody is good or bad when it comes to love. We're all just fools.

Mr. S is getting married soon, with a lovely girl who will make him the happiest man for the rest of their lives. When he broke the news, the first thing I said was, "Good job. You broke the pact. There goes my one guarantee of being married by 30, if all else fails." Haha. Jokes aside and if truth be told, I'm on top of the world for him! He's found his lobster! I was curious about the hantarans so I asked him which gift was he most excited about getting. He said, "A Bvlgari watch and a partner for life." Aww.

I also remember the time when he ran his proposal plans by me. By the end of it, my only response was, "Shit. Argh. Damn. Fishcakes." Oh no no, I wasn't mad at him. It was so frikin' sweet that it gave me a tooth-ache.

And to the happy couple! *clink*

*

My friend's sister just had a new-born baby girl. So before making my way to North London to pay them a visit, I made a pit stop at Baby GAP to get them a gift or two. So while I was going frantic at the sight of the pink tiny-teeny-weeny babysuits, a little girl, looked about 8 came up to me and said, "I think you should get this for your baby. I think she will like it." Hmm. I was a little puzzled. But instead of getting into the details of whose baby it REALLY was for, I asked her why. "Coz it's beautiful." And indeed it was. It was a pink caterpillar pillow hug. And there's no more to this story. Just this. And I'm out.