Last Saturday was the day I last saw him. I waited for him to get home and pack his stuffs. He was late and I was late for my Malaysian mooncake festival party thingy but it doesn’t matter. Because I knew, that was the last time if I ever want to see him.
I don’t remember all of what he said. Just some details about he will works his ass off when he is there, about he wanting to go into big companies and many companies that he wanted to go. And it will all about him.
“Myself. It’s going to be all about myself.”
“…It’s always been about you, yourself. I mean, everything.” The thing that he doesn’t really care about other. Or maybe just me.
It didn’t take him long. After both of us finished the weird tasting yogurts, he was ready to go. We walked down together and separated at the junction near the place where I confessed few months ago. I was just standing there seeing his silloulette fades away before I walk off.
For these few days, it has been very tough on me. I cried all the time. Tears just stream down my cheeks like the water fall. One thing I hate is to sleep and to wake up knowing I will cry again and again but nothing will ease the pain but the dream land or tears. My heart still ache.
He didn’t came today. He didn’t promise or whatsover. He just nonchalantly saying he will swing by and takes his box before head back to his home. He didn’t come. As I expected. Although in deep down, I wanted to see him one last time. But the weather is bad and typhoon warning is on. So by 9.50pm, I tried to call him. Just one last talk. But he didn’t pick up my call. Whatsapped me back saying I can just throw away those stuffs and he will be back home in 15minutes. I said talk later.
Now, it’s 11.43pm and I called again just now and no one to pick up my call.
I tends to get nervous. Agitated. Pissed. I’m not too sure who I am to him. Maybe nothing at all. Maybe I didn’t matter to him.