Anger

Anger : dark, bitter and unpalatable.

There's nothing to be angry about and nothing to forgive. It wasn't personal; it was a futile rant directed at society, built of a year's pent-up frustration.

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Perhaps there is a little anger.

Premature, but present - anger not at you... but at myself, for turning so sentimental.

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Ignorance

I don't know :

- what to say, when you pause in wonderment as I order the same mix-and-match breakfast you were just about to...

- what it means that it feels like I knew who you were before I even met you.

- what to think when I turn unconsciously to you, and find you already waiting, your eyes searching mine and the corner of your lip curling up into a smile, as I catch myself smiling at you.

- how to stop myself from laughing when that surprising wit of yours flares up - frequently - and I find myself parrying, and being drawn into the riposte without a second thought.

- what you mean, when you marvel aloud as I, with my hands on the steering wheel, fall uncharacteristically silent for just a moment - that we never stop talking, somehow... whether it be speaking, SMSing, or MSNing

- what to say when you remark that we have met each other every day since we first met, or when the words cross my mind - and doubtlessly enter yours - that we have not become bored of each other yet...

- how to stop myself from subconsciously scanning the contours of your face and inadvertently committing them to memory

I do know :

- that I shall miss you, when you are gone