I would never know what to do, neither what to say when we are together. I always did my best trying to start a conversation while he kept on scrolling his phone reading Dostoyevsky, and Solzhenitsyn’s literature while waiting for the order.

I always get corrupted because I know I’m not good at starting conversations that is why I always ended up interacting with my phone. He starts to talk when he felt like everything is in deep silence.

He always has something to say, and I like everything that comes from his smart mouth: glazing at him while listening is very satisfying.

I love listening to him—like I would listen to him forever.

I couldn’t afford to miss any single details—so I can respond, ask inquiries, and reacts accordingly when I have to.

I kept on gazing at his eyes like looking myself in the mirror while he was still talking—but I couldn’t hold it longer.

It feels like I am exploring the outer space and you saw a black hole pulling everything that surrounds it—and you got to stay away from it for you to keep going—and it’s just like him. I hide my feelings very well like hiding everything behind my heart’s mysterious singularity—that he couldn’t guess what I actually feel. But I'm already screaming on the inside.