Sunday, March 27, 2005

Another day..


Another day comes by...

Another lazy Saturday morning.. Woke up on the tone of my phone, I keep rolling in bed refusing to wake up.. I have to, it's 11 a.m .. But.. But.. No buts.. "1 message recieved" .. My mum asking me what color would I prefer for a dress? - I miss her- I miss everything about her.. Her smile, her sad eyes, the look in her eyes when I tease her, her blushy rosy cheeks.. Everything about her..

Opening my computer as I sieze this fine Godiva chocolate piece with my lips, and it fades away, slowwly..Surfing, exploring, un-sure which restaurant to choose, out of these 3 zillion five hundred fifty five thousand million and forty six restaurants.. Should it be one of these romantic Italian restaurants in Little Italy, or .. that? No no how about that fancy french restaurant, or that Japanese place.. Or you know what!! Maybe today I will just go to that nearby Chinese restaurant: Chef Chang's House.. Say it 8 times in a row :P

Eating alone, walking down the streets alone, collecting memories.. Alone.. Doing everything alone.. Nobody said it was easy.. But it was my own choice.. I made it..

" I miss you.. More than you could ever imagine.. If you only knew home much i care "


I come back home, walking all the way down to where I live.. Hesitating whether to check the mail or not- it's Saturday anyway- nobody delivers mail on weekends.. But wait let me check it anyway.. No no no ..I.. got a package.. This can not be the backage from Kuwait.. But wait.. How, it can't.. My mum forgot to put the street's number, no way it could reach me.. As he checks the little paper that has my name on it.. He asks me to wait.. Gets into the mail room.. Muttering "Geeeezzz, you got a package from Kuwait..!!" he shouts.. "Is it like Kuwait the "country"" he adds as he opens the book for me to sign that I recieved it.. A huuuge box covered with a white fabric.. It has her hand-writing on it- I miss you, I miss you, I miss you-. Impatiently, I open the box.. Everything as we agreed, some books,a birthday card, pictures, spices, cooking recipies, cooking knives!!, pictures, and.. Oh.. A letter! From her-my mum- wait.. I see another letter from my 3-year old sister.. Lots of lines and dots and ..-I love her-.

The more I get to the end of the letter and gaze into the pictures, the more tears I shed..

Life is tough.. But again.. It was my choice.. My very own choice..

Stacks of laundry is waiting for me.. Dishes to be cleaned, papers to be torn and arranged.. And more of that fine Godiva..


"Hope all's well.. Keep it all in your heart.. Don't ever regret it
"