Reminiscing....

It's 4 letter word weekend again.

If there's one thing about pain that I could relate to best, is to read JC's blog. What then used to be called an "online journal" on this site called Easy Journal. JC used to keep this journal. I know it was something he didn't want me to find. I remember reading it. And I remember how I felt when I was reading it. He was as difficult to catch on print as he was in person. But then, I wasn't trying to catch him.

But being able to read JC was a relieve for me. It meant that somehow one way or another, he could put into words what he sometimes feel. Although to me it was a lot of rhetorics, but it was right there. I know it wasn't about me. I know it wasn't about anything to do with me. It was about her. And I read it. Till right now, still remembering how it felt.

I remember the day before JC flew off. He was haunting me outside my lobby. With the Jazz-of-my-life. I know I blogged it. He took a picture of me. And a picture of me next to him. And I could almost guarantee, he still has that picture.

And when I look at my Frank Sinatra album, when I read the cover of the album, I know who got me that. And when I listen to John Mayer, I know who's album I have stolen. Small prints. Small prints but good ones. I know I'm having my Crumpler because of one person.

Boss said that the most difficult thing to live with in life is regret. And I don't have that. I'm glad to say I don't have that. Except day after day I go home to my parents and try to be a better child to them. Throw less trantrums. Spend more time.

I don't know if it's good to remember, or good to forget. Or somethings just better left untold. Such estrangled friends we are now...