I am tired of being sad. I am tired of hoping uncertain wishes. I am tired of being jealous of the things that I shouldn't be. I am tired of overthinking. I am tired of breaking down to relatable songs and cry. I am tired of being dissed. I am tired with the thought of wanting to be someone's priority for at least once, choose me over something else, or someone else. I am tired of feeling insecure. I am sick with not trusting people at all and at the end of the day, my overprotective problem shuts everyone out. I am tired of wanting someone to at least notice the slight changes in my behavior and immediately know that I'm not okay. I am tired of depending my happiness on someone else.

" Why haven't you update your blog?", he asked during last Saturday's phone call, it was a very long one, more than an hour, and it was a real call. I don't know how much he was charged for that. I give his effort an A+, calling back after numerous times the line was disrupted.

"Really? I thought I just uploaded a poem", I uploaded one that evening before dinner, an old one from a precious file in my laptop. I don't know what does he mean by that actually. Like, man, it was only five hours ago. He said it like I haven't been blogging for years.

"It was two weeks ago", he reminded me.
Two weeks? Wait, wait a minute...

"Oh, is it? It was 'Near To 60' right?" , Ah, I get it. He was actually asking on why I didn't blog about him. First, it was the fuss of trials that couldn't give me the time to rush to the next block for any Internet connection. Second, we have been talking almost everyday about our papers, so I am afraid if it will appeal to him as too clingy ( well, I actually am now but-just because...just because.) but it doesn't change the fact that I miss him and our long conversations past midnight where we can freely talk about everything.

" Yeah. And what does that 60 mean?", this curious guy. He knows all metaphors underneath my titles.

"I don't know. Guess.", I said cheekily, trying to drag him around. Let's see how fast a guy thinks. They say that guys never know what girls mean when they say things, so let this be my experiment.

"60 days of us knowing each other?"

Oh. My. Boat. Noodle. Chicken. Wings. He striked it again. He, striked me again. He has never failed to make me feel amused. He knows what is going on in my mind everytime. I think that I am the most observant person in the world but after I met him, hands down. The king of precision has arrived.

" What day is it now?"

"I don't know, I just roughly count" The only way I counted the days is when the calendar says 28, I should call it a month. A month has approximately 30 days. We started talking at May. Wait, whoa, what? June, July, August...it isn't two months! It has been three months since we know each other! Three freaking months already?! Time escalates super fast these days, but I'm up for the ride with this one everytime. So come three, thirty, three hundred, and even three thousand months, I'll still be here like Day 1.

" You haven't answered me", he emphasized.


"Well, we talk everyday, right? You can just DM me and you know that, don't you?"

"It was different"

I was drop dead.
                         

"I saw your latest Tweet"
Now, he totally gave me goosebumps on that one.

"About what? You know that I like to randomly rant on Twitter",

"Well, about the question thing."

"Oh", I knew what I tweeted. Yes, I was indirecting it to him because I know he won't let it slip away. Yes, he realized that Tweet. Now, I was left speechless. I am so confusing. I want him to know things but I always procastinate on doing that. The desicions are like plucking petals of a flower, 'Tell him, not tell him. Tell him, not tell him', aish, this game won't end seriously.

"What do you want to ask?"
A lot actually. One, why did he change his Instagram profile picture? I loved the previous one in the black shirt at his school compound, or the one when he wore a red shirt during Eid because that colour suits him. Two, number two is..

"Maybe not now"

"Okay."

Maybe not now, maybe later is not a good idea either. I have been asking this grand question to myself all the time, thinking if it is worth it to gamble on this charade. I don't want to shatter us down. Don't make me choose between his infectious laugh over anything, you'll lose horribly.

At the end of the conversation,
"Will you please be a gentleman?", I said sheepishly.

"What do you mean by that?"

"If you miss me, just say that you miss me. You don't have to ask me to call and whatnot", I added with a laugh.

"No, I don't, I'm cool here. Besides, you didn't call me last week", he said, keeping his cool shades emoji on.

"Hah, who's talking about calling here? Ish, just say that you miss me lah"

"Eh...um...dah lah, no comment!"

Such a qt.

definition megapixels on your phone
 lens

I beg your pardon to not mention this  but

" What do you do when you fall down?", Encik Ahmad questioned during his turn to speak during the weekly assembly. Everyone replied, "To get back up!" energetically although the only sound I heard was houseflies buzzing around a smelly trashcan.

                   "When you fall down, you get back up", Encik Ahmad repeated our answer and continued, "But who's doing the backing up? Yourself. Is there any hand from the Heavens that will reach for you? No. I can call high end motivators to come and talk up here and pay them thousands to lift your spirit, but the one who's doing the action is yourself."

                   "Just remember that your teachers up here are always here to support you to push you forward, by all means. We will go the extra mile for you, so you should too, for yourself. Please, if you can't do it for us, or your parents, please just do it for yourself". He ended his brief speech there, which marked the end of assembly.

The first period was Islamic Studies, and oh boy, you couldn't imagine how sleepy I was. I didn't lie my head on the table instantly, but I was trying so bad to open my eyes that in a blink of an eye, I dozed off. Ustazah Arbaayah caught me twice, and truthfully, I didn't mean to do so. The weekend was hectic, it was jampacked with classes and I didn't have time to actually sit down and take a deep breathe. Perhaps it was my fault too, I couldn't manage my time well.

At the end of class, I shook Ustazah's hand and apologised for my behaviour. Ustazah patted my back warmly, " Maleen, I understand that you may be staying up late, but it won't do you any good if you can't focus in class the next morning. I know that you are a good student, I see that, and it'll be a waste if you keep on with these interfering bad habits at this eleventh hour. Try to improve, alright?", I didn't hear a rising pitch in her voice. It was very soothing, very convincing that when we parted ways, I kept on thinking what she said. I felt sad because I felt like I had failed her. I had failed all my teachers, and that is the last thing that I wanted right now.

I have seen their sacrifices, like how Pn Nor Saidah stayed back, still with her baju kurung on since morning until 11pm, and came back at 8 am the next day when she should be resting the weekend off with her family and do something nice, or like how Pn Norizan keeps giving us worksheets non stop just to make sure that we're steadily studying Biology, and Puan Waheeda that usually come at night to supervise us doing Addmaths accompanied by Pn Nina, our counsellor, and the other teachers, oh I don't know what else that they had done behind our backs just to make sure that we're on track. I never care about the teachers until now. I tend to appreciate them more nowadays since they're the only backbones that I have at school other than the prayers that my parents send to me from home.

Keeping your smile at this stake is very hard. I haven't cover anything yet although trials with start next week due to the overflowing workload, and I feel very defeated. I think everyone, especially Ma knows how I like to whine and blame everyone on everything, but there's a verse in the Quran, I can't remember which, that says,

                    " Sesungguhnya manusia itu suka mengeluh. Apabila dia diuji, maka dia akan berkeluh kesah. Melainkan orang-orang yang menunaikan solat"

I learnt that during a Tafseer session with Kak Fari, an Old Girl who is the founder of Little Caliph kindergarten franchise. This verse hits me hard because, I pray five times a day without miss. I take them seriously, but why am I still whining?

So whenever something shows up, I will immediately shut my mouth tight and play the verse back in my head. It has been calmer for me to accept rather than to whine over something that cannot be changed after all. I have to go through it, so I rather go through it positively. Try it, In Shaa Allah it will do you some good too.

Speaking about teachers makes me think about Cikgu. Seeing my teachers sacrificing for us makes me reflect on how much he has sacrificed for me since I was little. It was haywire back then, but he chose to step in and rush me out from the fire. I never take it deeply back then because our interactions are more like friends, but as I grow up and live far from home, it started to reveal infront of my eyes.

As a teenager with a roof that will blow in no time, there are hard times that we will have big fights, like the fights that you usually have with your mom or dad. It was always leaving the conversation hanging, running away and avoiding each other until at one point, I will step in to apologise and he will come and call me back. There are always desicions that makes me hate him and feeling like shouting on top of my lungs, " I am a big girl already! You don't have the right to say the last word anymore!", but when sometimes I tell Ma about it, she will always say, " Grow up as fast as you want, but in our eyes, you're always our little girl". That time, I will always cut her with a feisty laugh, but now, it makes me sad. As I grow up, I will grow distant from the people at home. I will be distant from him. Even right now, I think all I need is his figure sitting across me and comfort me with his consoling voice just like the way he does it when I was really frustrated when I was little.

Gosh, I miss him badly :(