|This is a story about Ada and her blog posts about the way she misses Railey, the love that she has lost...|

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Habits can be such a scary thing. It's like a promise you couldn't break no matter how much you try. A promise you could never bear to break.

Do you remember when we used to hang out every Friday? Sometimes, we go out together with our friends. Sometimes, it would be just the two of us.

Sometimes, we would go build a tent in the park. We would set up a laptop to catch up on movies and horror films where someone almost always ended up crying. Or we would just make it a picnic and eat all the junk foods we could buy from the nearest convenience store. We would share stories and dreams and plans for the future. And then we'd make a promise to still meet every Friday in that future.

I liked it best when it was just you and me. Because on those Fridays, I could keep you all to myself. Even when you would just sit there holding your phone, playing a game I could never understand. While I sat quietly as I read a book, or do my homework, or just quietly watch you whenever your expressions change as you play your game. It was such a happy thing to look at you crease your forehead one time and then crack a smile on the other.

Oh, how you make my heart flutter when you would suddenly place your gaze on me. Everytime. And I would shyly look back to what I was reading, wondering if you could hear my heart beating loud. Then you would suddenly laugh as if to make fun of me.

But did you know? I could hear in your laughter a nervousness that was similar to what I was feeling inside my stomach, tickling my insides like crawling bees. Back then, I never knew what it meant.

But I know you were the reason why I look forward to Fridays every week. Because I know it was the only day in the week I was sure I would meet you. Like a habit. Like a promise.

I still look forward to Fridays. Because these days, it became the only day in the week that I could indulge myself to miss you without feeling guilty. Like a habit. Like a promise.

And when Friday comes, I would find myself back at the park where we used to camp. And I would sit there quietly as I read a book, or do my work. Only this time, there was no more you as I watch the place where you used to sit as you stare at your phone playing a game I would never understand.

And sometimes, I would find myself crying as I miss you every time that Friday comes. Like a habit. Like a promise.

Missing you is a habit I could never break. A habit I don't want to break. Because if I do, it would feel as if I am breaking a promise with you.

So I would keep looking forward to Fridays every week. Even if I know you would never come to meet me anymore, I promise to miss you on Fridays without reserve, without feeling guilty.

You wouldn't mind, would you?



© nabinara