As the rain was pouring heavily outside, I waited in the porch. It’s been 3 years since I last been here. I’m not sure if things are still the same, the place, him. It so happens that I was driving in the neigbourhood. A sudden remembrance made me turn into the USJ3 exit. I called him after 3 years of absolute silence. The rain was making me feel cold.

He opened the door and we shook hands. When our skin touched, I felt the jolt of blood rushing rapidly in my veins that made a tingling sensation at the back of my ears. I tried hard not to, but past memories kept bursting into my sane mind. He was smiling widely as he invited me in. The familiar face made me felt warm in the inside.

Half way towards the living room I saw a slim vertical cabinet by the stairs, filled with recognizable items. I stopped my footing and tried to identify each items. “That is where I kept all of your gifts, don’t you remember?”, he broke my concentration. “Oh…”

We sat ourselves comfortably on the couch and began talking. An attempt of catching up some would say. He told me that he was living there alone. On the telly, Ezzah Aziz Fauzi was reading the news but there was no sound. She was set on mute. Rain continued to pour on that cold Sunday evening.

“I need to go to the bathroom”, I finally said. My bladder can’t take it anymore. I need to pee.
“Use the one in my room, I’m sure you know your way up”, he replied.


I zipped my pants up and flushed down the toilet. As I was washing my hands, I thought about the excuses that I’m going to give him. I was planning to leave. Very soon.

I opened the bathroom door and saw him standing in the middle of his room, with only his boxer on. I closed the door behind me. When I turned my head towards him, he was already out of his boxer. Naked, he climbed on his bed. Lying there, he gave me a smile. I wasn’t surprised at all. I picked up his boxer and gave it to him.

“I think you should put your clothes on”, I said.
“But why?” he gave me a disappointed, yet adorable look.

The rain showed signs of stopping. I opened the bedroom door. Leaving for good.

“It won’t get us anywhere”