Miss Aida
It’s late.

It’s always late when the three of us inevitably end up in the living room.

We talk nonsense.

There’s soft jazz playing in the background, music from your computer. It sounds like the soundtrack to that moment, and the humming of the fan reminds me of those still, humid afternoons back home. The air is stagnant and still, and the three of us sit under those dim lights, and it seems as if we are insulated from the outside world, in a little bubble of our own.

You make me laugh with your random statements, and confuse us two by going off on a tangent about naming body parts. I tell you you fill out my jeans better than I do, and we trade ass jokes for a little while.

You’re oh so formal, with your “Hello, how are you’s?”, despite the fact that we’ve known each other for almost four years, and I wander in and out of your bedroom to disturb you on a regular basis.

You, the other you, confound me with bombastic phrases from architectural magazines you read out at random intervals. I give you confused looks, and we laugh that same slightly amazed laugh at the strangeness of literature.

You’re oh so funny, with your random paranoia, and the edginess. How you wonder if you should have more coffee. Your excited highs and reflective silences. We talk about politics and history and old movies. We laugh at celebrity fashion bloopers and MadTV and I ask you personal questions which you don't always have to answer.

There’s you on the floor, you curled up on the couch, and me outstretched on the sofa bed after I’ve dragged my comforter out, in that little boxed up space in the living room.

There’s always music, or the television in the background.

I’m usually the first to fall asleep.

You’re always the first to wake up, and you’re usually last.

It always amazes me how much you’re able to sleep.

You always wake me up when you leave the house, and I roll over and wave bye to you as you walk out of the door.

It’s early.

I can’t help thinking how much I like this midnight scene of the three of us, just sitting and talking in that little slice of time. It never crossed my mind that I would be living with the two of you, but I am finding myself content and happy.

Sometimes I wonder if I could freeze time, and capture this moment. Exactly the way it is in my mind.

It’s always late.

9 Responses
  1. Alia M. Says:

    I seriously love this! Always wanted to write something like this, but would always ended with a stupid joke!


    Aku tak reti :(

    Ehyou know what, you're a medical student and yet, you're so poetic!!! Sorry, excited terlebih lebih..


  2. i like your observant side better than mine.

    hugs.


  3. I am liking this one very much. :)


  4. ben Says:

    hehehe.
    your neighbourhood stalker here.

    was watching you from my balcony. kuchai on his desktop and the other 2 of you on the bed.

    where's faiz?


  5. Ben!

    Stalker! That's scary.

    And Faiz was finishing work.


  6. well said without being overly verbose. economical yet effective.

    since i find my own oratory skills to be lacking, i resort to photography to help capture some moments that i can't describe well enough.

    though most times, words work better.


  7. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.


  8. Zaty Says:

    this made me tear x(

    i like moents like this. when it feels like you're the only ones in the world, and time stands still outside where you are.

    sigh.

    i love your writing. it always evokes mixed emotions inside me. in a good way. =)


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