Work's been treating me really kind. I've started on a warm desk, where things are already pretty much set in stone. Have a great bunch of collegues who joke as hard as they work, and autonomy reigns very freely ( something which is still very foreign to me ). And I'm glad that even though i know shit about the industry i'm working on, I've gotten my first interview all prepped up within a week and a half.

To you, I hope life has been treating you well. I hope you are happy with whatever you are doing right now. And as much as it seems to be that I'm monologing to myself blogging, I'll still be selfish enough to use this as a medium ( to want to ) connect to you, still.

Because despite of all the maybes, the both of us still cannot muster enough courage, courage to face the what ifs. Emotions are as fragile as much as they can be solid being suppressed isn't it so ? I stutter and re-think what i blog, if the things i wanted to say make sense, if they would affect you, and thus, much less vocalize my emotions.

All that's running through my mind now is that we could go on forever be pinpointing the reasons, the blames, and the faults we have for each other. We loved our other idiosyncrasies, and yet, perhaps, it was them that led us to what we are now. Maybe this after-thought came too late - but if we had foresight, non of these predicaments would have surfaced. But then again, what would love be like with foresight?

Bare these thoughts redundant, inconsequential. Give me a sign when you're eventually ready, and I'll be there.