Of Nebulae, Stars and The Sun - Part I

I wrote two drafts about you. Two. And as 'draft' is defined, they remain as drafts.

But why they remain so, why I didn't publish them is not the problem here. The problem is why did I ever write about you. But it is as much a problem as eating too much of chocolate is a problem. It's dangerous, but I like it *smack lips*

I can't tell for sure when did I fell for you. If I try to, sure, I would figure it out but the point is I was in denial the whole time. Why I was in denial, that I can answer. At first, you were just a colleague at least, a friend at most. And as with the nature of our workplace, people come and go at the rate of a passing train.You were just a number in a crowd. You were just another people who would finally had enough of the bs and resign. A blip if I paid attention, a blur if I didn't. 

But you were a blip.

Right off the bat, you were walled out by me. Why would I invest too much in someone that would leave at the call of another job offer? But you don't need much, you just need a little to make me realize how beautiful you are. Like a patient nebula, you rise above the rolling dust and smokes. Suddenly the world seems a little less harsh with you around. Suddenly I need some occasional time to be with you. Suddenly, the night sky seems a little less random. Suddenly, I found myself looking for you.

You were a blip, and now suddenly you're a star.

And it didn't help that you weren't my type. Though what exactly is my type is debatable, because I'm the kind of person who would ignore personality quizzes i.e favorite colour, favorite number etcetera. Not because they are total bull (they are), but because I'm not sure I know the answer.

But over time, you went from nu-uh to ah-ha. You grew on me like Yasmin Ahmad movies; nothing much to look at but at the end something profound. There's nothing really outstanding about you at first. You were generally nice and polite, but I've heard you cursed. You were quite funny albeit the occasional hit-and-miss. You listen well but you could talk too. You're not shy to ask for company, but have the pride to wait too.  Maybe that generality is what's so different about you. You don't have the best of things but you have everything that good people possess. You're like an Ikea store, nothing so dazzling but everything is just cozy and warm.

Now you are my first thought when I wake up, and the last when I go to sleep. You invade my mind when I'm at work. When my phone vibrates, a little part of me hope it was you. And when it is you, I will smile foolishly at my made up believe that you were thinking about me all day. You're my guilty pleasure, a distraction I welcome.

But you are as much a distraction to me as my motivation. This is just another thing that's fascinating about you. You would sometime complain about work, but I see it as how much you care about it. When you vent out your frustration, most of the time it is because your effort were limited by incompetency of others. And I see intelligence in how you solved problems that you cursed at. But like everything about you, you do it moderately. You work hard and you mengulor too. You make me respects you enough, but you're not a saint that I have to be on my best behaviour all the time. Even in the mundane nature  of work, you fascinates me. Even in your kindness and modesty, your spontaneous naughtiness amused me. So tell me, how can I not fall for you?

And how can I not wish for you to fall for me too?

 How can I not wish for a falling star?




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