16 April 2024

day 16 (#angelealowesprompts' april): extended version of us

you arrived with your favorite ride because we hated this city's traffic. additional helmet was offered to me, after i checked my old backpack. you've always said that my bag would hurt my back, but i giggled, "it's the only type of bag that would carry everything in my house that i should bring to work." and you would laughed your ass off as if it's the best joke you've ever heard. 

wind in my hair, people grumbled in traffic lights, and the warmest hug as my hands wrapped around your body. our fingers intertwined, and it would always calmed my mind. without words, just you and i after work hours. people always said that words are overrated, and this version of me would've agreed. it's the silence—and nothing else mattered. 

we would've stopped at our favorite stall. you would picked different menu every time we ate there—the adventurous of you. and me with my usual food—and you would've said that i was boring. someone that always stayed in comfort zones, would've not going anywhere if you're not coming. 

or we would've picked a midnight movie at the standalone cinema. i would bought the sweet popcorn—because for me, the caramelized was too sweet. and you would've fell asleep midway the film. and if i told you just to go home rather than we stumbled in this cold box, you would've said, "it's okay, this is our only time together. and i'm sorry if i ruined it by falling asleep. how was the movie?" and you would listened me babbling the whole story.

and i could go on and on about the "what if?" if there's an extended story about us. we would've been happy—even though sometimes we would've argued. we could be the "oh? they're still together after all these years?" and we nodded and laughed. forever would be our ending, and i would not felt so lonely like i am now. 

but this was the stories in my head before i fall asleep. the stories i made up sometimes—if looking down your social medias not enough to cure the i-miss-you's. the-grown-up-version of us in this mundane life. 


// would've, could've, should've 
16.04.24; 7.46pm