…back to you

(”Come Back to Bed”, by John Mayer playing)

this doesn’t feel right
lying here all alone.

was it just a dream?
if so, it was a nightmare.

does my memory serve me right?
i had you here beside me
just before i fell asleep
last night
(…or so i thought.)

i’ve been waiting.
but now i realize
waiting
is far better
than being left behind.
left alone.
left with nothing
but memories
of how you touched me
and kissed me.

you should have taken them all with you.
the faded memories
and false promises altogether.

but not the kiss.
not that sweet kiss
your soft lips passed onto mine.
leave it to me and be gone.
let me lie down still
on my bed of loneliness
and let me close my eyes
to rekindle the warmth
of that one kiss.

respond.
you respond to my wanting,
to my waiting…
with footsteps.
footsteps.
i open my teary eyes
and there you are
standing at my bedroom door
with your lovely smile.

you came back..
hopefully to stay,
hopefully to share my bed with me
and never go away.

so stop teasing me,
stop making me wait any further.
all my life i’ve been lying here waiting
for you to arrive,
and now that you’re here,
don’t just stand there outside the door.
take your place beside me
…come back to bed.

Iced tea.

I didn’t want any more alcohol. That night, I wanted to go home sober. The reason? I dunno. Maybe because I was afraid to get drunk and do anything stupid. Maybe because I just wanted to have something that tasted different compared to bitter beer that has become nauseating then. Or maybe because I subconsciously hoped some God-driven miracle would happen just by me getting a glass of iced tea from the bar.

Ha ha. Yet another wishful thinking of poo’ witto Josh.

As I desperately forced my way through the partying crowd, I continued daydreaming (yep. it was already past 2am, on a Sunday in some branded bar) that some drop-dead gorgeous model would suddenly snatch my arms and take me dancing - to the sensual rhythm on the dancefloor - then take me home to have some steamy, raunchy sex.
Hmm. Some miracle alright.

But then again, God does hear His children.

I still don’t know what noble deed I did that day, but when I finally reached the bar to get my iced tea, there you were.

You.

You were there with a startled but still radiant smile, making my heart skip a beat, like how it always does when I see you around.

I wasn’t able to help it, but I let out my own genuine smile I wear so rarely. That moment was one of the very few when I am able to fully understand why people domesticate stray cats, or why housewives sing while they cook, or why chocolates can be so goddamn addicting to some.

"You want something?"
"Uhh… yeah. A glass of iced tea. But I’ll just get it myself."
"No, let me."
"…Thanks."

Small talk.

With just a few lines about Superman, work and common friends, to me it turned into an irreplacable moment .

Then we parted ways.

It all ended just as easily as it all started. A short-lived miracle.

A glass in hand and a giddy smile on my face, I went back to my loneliness, and my iced tea.

No, I wasn’t able to get your number. I would have loved a little more chat. I was even too timid to ask you to dance. But it was more than enough…

…because when all I wanted was a glass of iced tea, that night, I went home with so much more.