Spring

Dear readers, it really has been a while.. Hasn't it? Much apologies, if there is any I can offer. Instead of repeating the same old excuses, let me just indulge myself in this post.

Yes, spring has come to Osaka. It's going to be around 20 degrees Celsius throughout this week, and although I have been inside my room this past weekend, starting and finishing Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead, from the seldom walks outside I gather that the first few cherry blossoms are blooming. The real cherry blossom, or sakura, are not as red or pink as the plum blossoms that bloom much earlier. Nor do they last as long. But I guess scarcity, and not audacity, makes something more precious.

I have been looking forward to this spring. No, not just for the warmth, nor the flowers. I have been looking for a turning point, a new beginning. Things were slightly darker and testy than I expected in the first few months here, but I see signs of change since two weeks ago. It's amazing, how renewed energy fills me in and sparkles me with life. On that note I am still working towards the certainty of my summer endeavors; this blog is just an act of procrastination. Thus let me indulge you in a story, a story of my best date in Japan.

It happened around ten days ago, I think, when we decided to explore Arashiyama in Western Kyoto. Although people might say that Arashiyama seem very touristy, it still could not avoid the warm, fuzzy radiance that belongs to Kyoto. Its rustic landscape, blended almost perfectly with nature, gives one an illusion of ancient Japan. She loved Kyoto the most too..

We first worked our way from the train station to the Arashiyama bamboo grove. Given the number of people who called me panda in the past, I can only say I feel at home in the bamboo grove. Pictures cannot even capture the feeling of being in it; much less words, but let me try. The bamboo grove is a pathway surrounded by very tall and lush bamboo trees. Being in its shade and smelling its fragrant, but meek scent gave me a sense of a sacred calm. We loved this place so much that we actually came back again after visiting Tenryuji.

The Tenryuji temple is also beautiful. She saw her first sakura blossom there, and we meandered through beautifully assorted trees and Buddhist structures. But I must confess that the best part of the temple visit was the vegetarian lunch we got. For 3000 Yen each, we had lunch in a traditional Japanese room. No tables, no chairs, no cushions, just a designated area for us to sit seiza-style. To the left and to the right of us are strangers, fellow Japanese people who are enjoying the same kind of lunch we are about to have. The waitress came and brought a luxurious set meal with probably more than 10 kinds of varieties of vegetarian dishes, and they tasted fantastic. It was a lot of food, and I am so proud of my date for being able to finish everything, save the rice, which I happily gobbled up (In Japan, it is considered bad taste and manners to leave food behind).

We decided to walk down our food by randomly exploring the nature trails in Arashiyama. We crossed a magnificent lake, and were very close to visiting a monkey park (which I tease my date a lot about), until we found out that admission was not free. My date and I then decided to browse some stores to potentially get some souvenirs. Kyoto is very famous for their sweets, and after half an hour of strolling we got enough free samples to make up for our lunch's lack of desserts.

After we sampled and bought (yes, we're not that cheap haha) enough stuff, we still had a few hours left, and thus we decided to follow this sign which says "Great view! 1km".We ignored the fact that the sign brought us into wilderness, that the trail was getting higher and steeper. But thank goodness we did follow the trail, because it led us to a hidden shrine, up high in a mountain and covered by trees. When she told me that it was a beautiful sight, I thought to myself that the view was almost as pretty as her smile then. When she told me that she enjoyed the sound of the flowing river, I thought to myself that it was almost as enjoyable as hearing her soft voice. I sat next to her, brushed her shoulder, and gave it a light kiss.

She gave me a good slap on my face. Just kidding, she smiled at me warmly.

We went back to the station afterward. And oh, along the way she spotted a shop that sells roasted sweet potato flavored ice cream. I'll never forget its marvelous taste, and how she loved it so much.

Thanks, I had fun!

Nankurunaisa

Hey how is everyone doing? I just wanted to give you all a slight update from Osaka.

Isn't the title of this post lovely? Hehe. So, as explained in the very first post, Nankurunaisa is an Okinawan phrase which roughly translates to "everything will be well in the end". I did not elaborate it as clearly back then, but I took this phrase from a Japanese manga I was reading. This blog started around my first year of Junior College in Singapore, and it wasn't the easiest of years. I desperately needed warmth, a hug, and encouragement back then; I myself haven't developed the capability to have faith or the optimism that conquers everything.

I saw this phrase in the piece of comic I was reading, and I was touched. Things felt a little better just by possibly thinking that everything might be well in the end. All is not lost. And hence the blog -- I wanted to share the comfort, and if through my writing I can make my readers smile and laugh; if I can make them think that in the end, everything might be well, I have fulfilled the purpose of this blog.

To be honest, my times here hasn't been that easy either. The lack of academic challenges is compensated by challenges from other areas. Yet, somehow, some way or another, I have been able to take it easier. At the darkest times, I have, somehow, demonstrated faith. And with that, comes gratitude, and the will to live on. The joy, the wonder, to experience life, and have fun with it.

Every time we die, we are reborn again. Yet, not everything is lost; we retain our lessons and dispositions. Thus, it is our sole duty to enjoy the process; living and reliving entails a lot of pain and sadness, but we must not forget the happiness, joys, and merry too. After all, for a diamond to shine bright, it has to endure hellish flames and pressures. And we do, after a while, get better real fast.

Nankurunaisa. One of my housemates, Eigen-san, is actually someone from Okinawa. One day, he was having a friendly chat with another housemate, and I heard him saying: "Nankurunaisa." I have never expected to hear the word being spoken in my whole life, since Okinawa is so far removed from myself. I was so glad that Nankurunaisa is a real word, it's not something that the author of the comic made up. I am so glad that (yokatta...) that there has come a day where I actually hear the words that mean so much to me, that inspired this series of musings. Yokatta.. Thank you..

I shook my head in disbelief, asked Eigen-san to repeat the word again, gave him a high five and a hug. After all, I heard it when I needed to hear it the most. When I needed, again, to be told that everything will be well in the end.

Thank you, Eigen.

Now I know better why I was sent to Japan.

Osaka

Hi again readers (if any), hahaha

Today is my seventh day in Osaka, Japan. How is it going, you ask? I'm fine, as always.. First of all, I am healthy and safe. I am surrounded by amazing housemates and friends, and I am taken care of by wonderful program directors and landlords. I am starting to believe that everywhere I go, there are guardian angels protecting me, and as long as I am not too reckless, I will be nudged towards the right path. Anyways, I just got back from the gym, and I am blogging as I wait for the dinner with a friend at eight.. So here goes!

This program I am participating is called CET Osaka, and one of it's special features is the fact that we get to live with a specially assigned Japanese roommate. I live in a 8-person house (4 American students, 4 Japanese roommates), and my roommate, Shouta-kun, lives in the room right next to me. First of all, this semester might not be as academically intense as Amherst, but this semester really taught me to live. Japan is a very sophisticated society to navigate in, whose members have very little tolerance for people who deviate from the social norm.

I am currently in the midst of settling down, trying to better improve my communication skills with my Japanese roommates, and figuring out the dos and the don'ts of living in Japan. In the past seven days, I have learned that, among other things: 1) It is unacceptable to eat anything rice-based and walk (although something as tiny as sushi or onigiri) in Japan, but it is okay to eat bread while walking. 2) Phones are forbidden in the gym, even if you only use it to listen to music. MP3 players are cool though. 3) In the event of an earthquake, you need to rush to open a window or a door. There are further things that I haven't learned properly yet, like how to throw out trash. There are designated days in the week to dispose garbage, and on different times you can only throw out certain things. You have to use a clear plastic bag, and you may not put the garbage the night before.

If Singapore is a fine city, where order is kept through punitive measures and cost-prohibitive fines, Japan's order is maintained from social pressure and norms. From silent, judgmental stares to blatant criticism, the middle aged people here seem to try their best to make sure that everyone else is doing things the way it's supposed to be done. Of course, it's the society's business. Children here are taught to put the collective before the individual, and to always be mindful of how one's actions might impact others. That is not to say that everyone follows the rules. Occasionally, we get to see the oddball who slurps his cup ramen casually in the train, or older Japanese workers throwing up on the side of the street after drinking stupor.

Thus, it has been an interesting experience. I am starting to understand why a lot of people feel that living in the Japanese society is stressful, and I have an inkling that the Japanese people might care even more about their 'face' than the Chinese people. But yes, this is a place where I can be as polite as much as I would like to be and find someone who is even more polite. And yes, this is a place where I get to bow to other people and instead of getting judged, I get a bow back. It feels pretty nice!

Thank you,

Surabaya

Ahh.. Some things never really change, do they?

I am born-and-bred a metropolitan boy, but my dad actually grew up in Surabaya, Indonesia's second largest city.. (which was unfortunately the city of origin of the recent Airasia plane incident.) I am lucky, very lucky, that my dad relented to my mom and moved to Jakarta before they had me.

I grew up having the privileges of living in a capital city, but at least once a year, during the Chinese New Year, I will have to be forced to go to Surabaya, to visit my paternal granddad and my dad's side of family. Surabaya is rustic, and rusty; I have never had good memories of visiting her. Surabaya was always filled with mosquitoes and poor bedding, with noisy cousins who speak Bahasa Indonesia with a weird accent. Family relations were full of tension at best; sometimes the fuse would blow up. I remember always dreading my visit there, and I always looked forward to go to the airport to fly back to Jakarta.

When it was my turn to study to the States, with it came with the right (and later it became a burden) to not go back home during Chinese New Year. It was a fair deal to me, in the beginning, at least. I called back home and wished them happy Chinese New Year, and it would save me the hassle of going to Surabaya and meeting extended relatives I barely know.

My grandpa then fell severely ill around two months back. It was suffice to say that he needed to be flown to Singapore in a chartered plane for an emergency procedure, and let's just say that the doctors pulled a miracle and gave him a second life.

I could never communicate properly with my grandpa. He immigrated to Surabaya from 厦门 in his teens, and went straight to work instead of going to school. As a result, he spoke a mixture of Bahasa, Javanese, 闽南话， and 普通话。Given the fact that I never understood 闽南话 and I only learned 普通话 two years ago, I am very pleased of myself if I can understand fifty percent of what my granddad is saying. Most of the time, though, the words that come out from his mouth seemed like gibberish, and if I'm lucky I my dad or my aunts would translate his words for me. If not, I would just nod politely, smile, and attempt to come up with something that was tangential to his questions and remarks.

My granddad isn't the easiest person to get along with, either. He isn't the most patient or polite of people; and he is very stubborn. There was some life decisions he made that his kids would never have condoned. I haven't been able to appreciate him up until this moment. It is a pity that such is human nature, only when you realize something is scarce and about to be taken away you start to value it. My grandpa's hard work was the reason I am living my life comfortably and travelling around the world right now. He survived on powdered milk, tap water, and 馒头s when he crossed the South China Sea to avoid persecution. He was open-minded (and wealthy) enough to send my dad to USA for his tertiary education. He named me 林耀宗，and thus the duty is on me to make his name fragrant. (I am his eldest inner grandson)

I remembered how, when I was small I stayed in Surabaya, I couldn't sleep well and went downstairs. Granddad was watching television, and he taught me how to open and eat 葵花子s. I also remembered when I was studying in Singapore, he would come occasionally and treat me to very good meals in Orchard Paragon's Crystal Jade, his favorite restaurant. Funniest is when he told me to get some fried rice for myself as he saw I was losing a lot of weight due to the stress in Singapore. He assured me that the fried rice is cheap, and the "cheap" fried rice turned out to be from... din tai fung. Hahahahaha

As I visited his home yesterday evening, and the first thing he told me and my dad was to climb to the second floor and pray to our ancestors. Afterwards, I sank in his sofa, I noticed how time seems to be immortalized in his house. I was sitting on the same sofa that I sat on fifteen years ago, looking at the same newspaper clippings on his mahogany table, and watching from the very same television. I have grown into an adult, into a man who felt compelled to show his grandpa a picture of his girlfriend on his phone. At the same time, I felt that these rusticness grounds me; it keeps me rooted, it makes me remember who I am.. Or at least who I have been.

My granddad was very healthy compared to two months ago. We had a dimsum this morning, and then we took him to stroll in a nearby mall. However, some things about his house really changed.. It started with the broken water and piping systems, and then this time a lot of his house's lighting wasn't working. If a person's dwellings signify his life, this does not bode well.. I am very grateful for whatever time I have left with him, and I am very grateful for the opportunity of seeing him once more before I leave for Japan in two weeks' time.

However, I cannot keep myself from wondering.. if, upon his departure, will I cut all my ties with Surabaya? The only compelling reason to visit this place will only be nostalgia, and we all know that we must not look at the rear view mirror too often if we are to drive a car forward. Nonetheless, I am grateful to be back. I get to see my solid roots, and I will never forget them. And I hope I can do you proud, grandpa. Hopefully I get to see you again.. Love you.

Yours,
林耀宗

Unfortunately, I didn't have the chance to convey even a tenth of this to my own grandpa. I will probably never have the opportunity to. However, I believe that some things are better left unsaid, and some words are meant to be unspoken...

The Long Way Back Home

Hi readers, it's me again! I am trying to force myself to stay awake as my plane approaches Western India, because I wanted to curb jetlag while I can. Up to this point, I have undertaken over 32 hours of travelling (starting from my 1pm Saturday Peterpan bus from Amherst). It has been quite a ride, and thus allow me to recount: My long way back home.

I have been having such amazing last few days in Amherst, thus it only struck me how unreal it felt that I am finally coming back home after a whole year of being overseas. I don't know where I ought to begin, but let me start from the amazing brunch I had in High Horse with a particular friend. It was our last meal together until we hopefully meet again in the summer, so we treated ourselves to wonderful coffee, mimosa, pancakes, vegetable omelets, and Eggs Benedict. She was the one who suggested the place, and it was the perfect closure, perhaps, because according to her, our series of dates started from a dinner date there.

"Whatever", I told her, "It means I get to pay for this meal. What I started, I must end." She eventually relented to my request. We were sitting side by side on the bar, exchanging smiles, stories, and our precious pancakes. (I had chocolate, and she had blueberry. As always, she made the better choice. LOL) It was soon time to go, and I asked the cool waitress to take a picture of us two. (Nope, due to minority interests, I can't publish the picture here.) It was a wonderful brunch.

About thirty minutes later, we were New York bound. The first stretch of travels to JFK would take around 6 hours, and I thought to myself that this leg would be the easiest leg of the journey. How it could've been otherwise? She was seated next to me throughout, drifting in and out of sleep, softly cuddling my arms, and occasionally staring at me with her mesmerizing eyes. It was the shortest Peterpan bus ride ever, ironically, as it was an hour longer than the later time slot I intended to take. (The 3pm bus would've taken 4 hours instead of 5) She cautioned me against taking the later bus, as New York's Saturday night traffic would just squash any hopes of making it to JFK in time. Thankfully, I listened to her, and I subsequently managed to reach JFK half an hour before the check-in counter closed. Thanks again, Vi!

Eventually, we reached Port Authority by ten past seven. My mate was only flying home on Sunday, thus she was staying at her good friend's place in Queens. We figured if we took the E subway together, we could extend our time together by half an hour. So we did. I stared long and hard at her, before finally smiling and saying my thanks as she alighted at Queens Plaza. I felt my heart sank deeply as I saw her standing outside the subway, waving at me teary-eyed. I waved back to her until the cruel subway took the beauty out of my sight..

Fast forward to ten to nine, I had just cleared JFK's security checkpoint, and boy I was starving. I knew what I wanted for dinner: I wanted some fake Asian food, something that I've developed a taste for, and something that if I order in one of the three Chinese restaurants in Amherst, I'd be judged for. ("你是中国人，干嘛吃那些为洋鬼子准备的菜呢？", they'd sternly say)

I browsed the directory of JFK terminal 4, and to my delight, found Panda Express, the epitome of America's fake chinese food. So I spent ten bucks on probably the unhealthiest food on earth, with the main ingredients being boatloads of carbs and starch, sugar, salt, a weeny bit of protein, and tons of monosodium glutamate. I scurried around for a quiet corner to devour my treat, and to my astonishment, I chanced upon a familiar figure. It was Aneesh! He's an upperclassman who has been helpful in Investment Banking apps, and it turned out that he was taking Emirates too, although ultimately he was headed to Bangalore, not Jakarta. I would subsequently realize that he was seated in a row behind me in the plane bound to Dubai. It was pretty nice to have someone to chat to when you are travelling solo(:

The trick to survive long-haul flights is to make the most out of what the airline offers. See some crossaints in your tray? Ask for some orange juice. Feeling adventurous? Ask for some clamato instead of tomato juice. Emirates, in particular, offers terrific red wine. If you happen to request for one, the air steward/ess will give you a tiny personal bottle of red wine. Mine was a 2011 Spanish wine that was rather rich but fruity. Not bad at all! I'm not a big advocate of drinking and flying, but at moderate amounts, alcohol dulls your senses and slows your perception of time, which is nice because six hours would feel like five. It gives you some warmth from the cold air conditioning, too, and if you are lucky, you get drowsy and bam, when you wake up there's only a few more hours left of the flight. Hehehe.

It was in the afternoon when we landed in Milano's Malpensa airport. It was my first time in the continental Europe, and I was exhilarated. I connected to the free wifi there and took pictures and sent snapchats. The airport had a very beautiful mountain range set against its backdrop, and an exuding charisma around it, with gelato shops and big brand boutiques being scattered all around. I was this close to having a taste of an authentic Italian gelato if not for the fact that Aneesh actually didn't have any Euros, the store didn't accept the greenback, and there were no money changers in sight.

I did get a funny story, however. A few minutes before the flight was boarding, nature was calling, so I strode to the nearest restroom. There, I discovered that there were two adjacent restrooms, one across the other, and the path was blocked by what seemed like a cleaning cart. As I put my foot inside the door, there was this middle-aged female janitor who started lecturing me in (what I perceived to be as) Italian. "Crap", I thought. "I hope I didn't step into the wrong lavatory". I was contemplating of shouting sorry and dashing away from her, but my eyes scurried through the door and found a gentlemen sign there. Good grief, I wasn't about to be convicted of sexual harrassment. So I figured that she was telling me that the restroom was being cleaned, and she was giving me directions to the nearest restroom. I looked at her, gave my best smile, said "grazie" and walked away after she finished her rant. She must be quite astounded, thinking to herself "boy.. this chinoese kiddo knows some Italiano!"

About five hours and fifteen minutes of airtime later, I found myself stranded in the Dubai airport for 4 hours ish. I'm more familiar of this airport, so I know the rules of the game: 30 minutes of free wifi, and 30 minutes only. Plus, the quality of the wireless was substandard: I couldn't even upload the pictures of the airport I took. So, not unlike looking for water aquifers would be the top priority when one gets stranded in a desert, I spent a good hour and a half prowling the nooks of the airport for wifi access, starting from the west end to the east end, talking to different people and even helping an old lad from 沈阳 to order coffee, but I ultimately came back with no luck. I couldn't find the Indonesian restaurant which provided wifi, which was my saving grace the last time I was stuck in that airport. By that point, I have burned through my 30 minutes worth of free wifi. I had another 2 hours to burn, and I still wanted to text a certain someone.

I grew desperate. I bought dinner thinking the restaurant might provide wifi, but nope. I spent ten dirhams (USD 3.67) to buy a cookie from a cookie cafe, thinking that the store provides wifi access. Turns out that the store keeper only referred his customers to the free wifi that was provided by the airport... By then, I only had enough dirhams to get a cup of black coffee, and I grew even more desperate. I asked Starbucks and subsequently two more cafes, but alas, I was out of luck. (These cafes didn't get my money, obviously) I was desperate enough to climb up into a hotel and to beg the concierge for the hotel's wifi password. I was turned down, of course. To make matters worse, I started developing a headache, probably a function of stress and sleep-deprivation combined.

Growing dismayed, I was seriously contemplating to pay 5.60USD for an hour's worth of potentially shitty internet access. I retreated onto a quiet corner and was about to acquiesce to this temptation, and that's when I had a brilliant idea of connecting with my laptop. Long story short, my laptop is pretty much broken, which made it easy to unfold but difficult to fold back into one piece, and that's why I was reluctant to the idea. But I gave it a go nonetheless, and voila, it worked! :,) I saw messages from her and managed to wish her a safe flight before actually hearing an announcement about my flight's final call. I checked the time, and with the broken laptop in one arm and the Steve Jobs' biography in the other, I hurried towards the gate. Thankfully, the I managed to shut the laptop back into one piece fast enough and boarded the flight just in time, after texting her goodbye for one last time. Unfortunately, it seems the wifi was cut off as I approached the gate, so I don't think the message came through, but hey at least I chatted with her for quite a bit!

So now I am sitting in the plane, salivating on all the good food I get to eat after I endure another 3 hours and 53 minutes of the flight. Jakarta, 我回来啦!

Prelude

I believe that I am going to tell a prelude. It is a prelude to our future stories together, and although it may sound like it, it is definitely not an epilogue to our story, as we spent the last month together in Amherst.

First of all, allow me to again say thank you. Thank you for being an awesome friend. Thank you for being an amazing lady, and an amazing companion. Thank you for being very understanding, and thank you for being very honest. I cannot even begin to describe how much I will miss you, and how different Amherst would feel without you around. I still blame you for suggesting me to study abroad, though ;)

What will I miss about you, you ask? A lot. From sharing cigar smokes and cheap wine with you, to your loving arms. I will miss making fun of you, and probably miss being bullied by you too. Thank you for always smiling when you see me too. It is impressive how you still think highly of me, and treat the (sometimes) grumpy me very well. Thank you. I will miss our dates, and our late night conversations. I will probably miss your tears too. (not really, :P).

As always, I am very proud for falling for you. Very proud for confessing to you too (although it did take me quite some amount of alcohol..) Even prouder (and very relieved) to have your love back. You are somebody that I have been looking for almost a year and a half in Amherst, and I finally found you. I am chuffed to bits to finally even out the number of relationships I had. And you know my attitude towards long distance relationships. I honestly probably should not admit this to you, but yes, you made me shift my attitude. You made me wanted to give LDR a try. You made me feel that it's worth a shot.

Even though I guess I was slightly too little, and too late, I feel that it's better late than never, and I'd choose one night rather than none forever. Thank you for everything. Being around you have been very surreal. I love how you spoiled me, how you thought about me, and how you treat me so well. I will miss your sarcasm and biting jokes. I will probably even miss how you laugh at me all the time. On the flipside, that means that I am spared from kale, 苦瓜, and brusselsprouts for a while. Thank God.. Hahahahaha

Thank you, vi.. Thank you.. I wish you all the best for the future. I wish you a good life, and a happy one at that too. I wish that the man of your dreams will come to you timely, and although I will be jealous, but I will be very happy if he makes you happy. Remember what is of the most importance, never forget to cherish the valuable people around you. Keep enjoying life's little pleasures. I pray that you fulfill your greatest ambitions, and receive support and help from kind people along the way. I look forward to explore the world with you again, and hopefully you get to visit Indonesia/Singapore sometime soon. Also, promise me that you won't force me to eat 苦瓜 when I visit you in New York next year, okay?

It has been surreal, it has been a pleasure, it has been lovely.

Thank you, but it's not the end. It's a beginning, and may it continue to be that way, always.

Love you,

(Another) Night Out

Hi readers :) I'm surprisingly chill for my finals such that I managed to squeeze another date yesterday evening ;)

I promised a special friend for an Indian dinner date at Northampton, and I finally acquired my American driver's license, just in time. With that came back my Zipcar (which account I got suspended because of another long story), and thus I booked a Zipcar and drove my date to Northampton. Thank goodness, everything is really beautiful in the right time. It was snowing that day, and I promised myself that the next time I take a girl out to a date, she won't be covered in snow. (See the post on Funny How. Hehehe)

So I drove up to the Webster circle, texted her to come down, and nervously waited in the car. She came after a few minutes, looking like a very gorgeous picture of the evening, and smelling like heaven. The ride was pretty smooth despite the snow, and although it took me awhile, I got super lucky for parking. The Indian restaurant was very decent, and as good dates operate, I gave her some gifts for being such a great friend and date. Incidentally, I promised her not to give her anything (because she said she's not good with gifts), so, sorry I broke the promise ;)

Funny how I pulled out a box of something and she just grabbed it from my hand curiously. And even funnier how when I told her that it was a gift for her, the look on her face changed and she stayed silent and appreciative for quite a while. I took her to Herrell's afterwards, arguably the best ice cream shoppe in Pioneer Valley. I needed some milky things to neutralize the spiciness of the curry I had, thus we shared a small cup of Herrell's signature burnt sugar and butter. (Singaporean readers: It tasted very similar to Upper Thomson's Salted Caramel!)

I had a Skype interview at 8pm, so it wasn't a particularly long date. I drove her back, dropped her off, and prepared myself for the call. Thankfully, it seemed that she enjoyed the date very much. Will I get a second date? I do hope so.

Thank you for being an amazing date, love. I enjoyed seeing your smiling face that evening. I enjoyed caressing your face every time the car stops for the red light. I enjoyed teasing you and having those interesting conversations. I enjoyed learning more about you. I loved the small things you did for me. I loved how you were so appreciative of my gifts. And thanks for the kiss as we parted that evening. It took my by surprise, really.

Take care, see you around ;)

-Truly Indonesia's Finest