A thousand stories.

I couldn’t understand. I’m puzzled. This might be due to my delayed mensuration.
The first time ever my m was late for more than 10days and it freaked me out. Due to stress? I don’t know. Maybe because of the antimalarial pills that I’d. Well, therefore I’m feeling like an emotional hormonal imbalance bitch or time-ticking-boom. I can feel the fatigue, my eyes are closing while I’ve napped for an hour or so this afternoon. Cramps all over. It’s not easy to be a woman. I don’t feel like doing anything.

I tried to look at him. He was sitting right across the table. I tried to make small talks and asked him about how he celebrated mid-autumn festival. He exclaimed with a pretty strong response while I can see he was upset about that day.

“No nothing special. I tried to make myself busy as ever.”

I wondered if that includes me, as I bothered him the night before that.

I tried to meet his gaze. We’ve exchanged glances. The look that he gave me. Like it used to be. Nothing changed. That familiar eyes tells a thousand stories.

“Tell me your stories.”


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