Dear John

Dear John, another Nicholas Sparks's best-selling novel. Source: Mr Google 

I met you by chance today in LRT coach. Both you and I had missed our earlier train. I recognized you by your voice. The thick Sarawakian accent still won’t leave you although you've staying here in Kuala Lumpur for quite sometimes. It had been a long times since I last saw you. 4 years. Or more. I still remembered you wearing your snow cap to cover-up your big hair. Today, you looked quite different. Your hair’s well-trimmed. You were wearing black slack and ironed blue shirt instead of jeans and t-shirt. You looked thinner that I remembered you were. You’re well-polished I'm supposed. Or perhaps due to career demands, you have changed your appearance. I'm rather surprised you are in teaching field. Being a lecturer of private college which name I couldn't captured when you told me once. I presume you are leading a great life ahead. Good for you!  

'Don't you think I was too young to be messed with?' Source: Mr Google

After graduated, we still kept in contact. You still texting me and telling your stories. One day I have stopped replying your texts. Perhaps I was too depressed with my unemployment. Nor that was my own fault for applying the job only after 3 months graduated. I never heard of you since then. It came to my knowing that you pursued your master. Then I lost track of you. We used to hang out together, karaoke on Sunday morning, singing until sore-throat and laugh. You are a true chatty and bubbly person. In remembering you, never for one minute, you stop talking and laughing. You could tell any stories and we were your faithful audiences. Most of time, you would talking about your home town  Kuching. Those exotic foods you had tasted including ‘Tenggiling’ (Sunda Pangolin). Yacks! Pity you, little Pangolin.

“Have you measured your eyes today?” you said to me. At first, I went blank. Huh? (‘?’) Then only I remembered you used to make a fun of my big eyes. Saying things like my eyes grew bigger by days. I just grinned then. “Where have you been? You are not on Facebook either. Enjoy being secretive didn't you?”. And you just replied with smile. The truth is you are not in FB’s friend-list. I've reached my last station. We didn't exchange our number. We went separate ways. Till we meet again my old fellow friend.

P/s: Above is not another love story of my own version. Too bad isn't it?