BBM

No two things happen the same way twice. It’s a quote from a movie I saw but can’t seem to remember which. Too many times I’ve proven this right. I just keep trying, I guess. Like an addict, I keep hoping that it can repeatedly feel good. I keep hoping that there’s a formula for happiness.

Until a few weeks ago I started somewhat losing spirit. Mildly, I’d put it at boredom. I refuse to think of it as self-pity or depression.

I have been telling myself now – once is enough, twice is luck. So yes, this affirms my earlier proposition that life is made of moments.

On a lazy weekday morning, a friend BBMd me. He was going through a Schengen VISA application. He’s going to Paris, despite his refusal (can you really believe this guy?). His words swam inside my head as he recalled how much fun we had during the interview, having been mistaken as doctors and all. After his interview, he told of how he decided to take the same cup of coffee in the same coffee shop where we went then. In short, he went through a replay of how it was when WE did it together.

I could smell his coffee and cigarettes even as I was on my work desk. I had to take a cigarette break as well. Kilometers away from each other and working on nothing more than a two year-old memory, it seemed real. Except for one important thing – we were not together this time.

Suddenly I felt like I miss him. I miss him. I told him I miss him.

And I wondered - if I die will he miss me this much? Can he BBM me and take me to the moment?