Secrets.

My body clock is so screwed. Here I am, wide awake at 0400hrs and then suffer from uncontrollably heavy eyelids in the middle of the day. Hello body, Paris is almost four months away, it is too early to adjust now.

Since I’m wide awake, let’s talk. My sister just asked me what’s up with X and me. Apparently, “just friends” is not the answer she wishes to hear. Believe me dear sister, that is not the answer I wish to give too, but the man has made it clear; we’re just friends. She said friends do not have four-hour phone conversations. I don’t know either.

Then I guess I better not tell her about the few things we have planned to do together in the near future. Like the hush-hush project which we’re planning for after we return from Paris. Or the trip to the US which will happen in a couple of years after we save enough to leave again. And the ideal situation of us being neighbours in the future so that I can conveniently pop over for meals and how we can nurse mugs of hot chocolate sitting on our doorsteps and chatting into the wee hours of the night. Actually I don’t remember us specifically planning for stuff. We will just talk and then BAM! Plans fall into place.

I think first of all, I should refrain from using so many “us” and “we”s. It kinda confuses people (and sometimes myself). My friend was just ribbing me about it the other day, saying how I’m not his wife yet but am using so many of these togetherness terms. Need to exercise some self-restraint here.

I can tell my elder sister dislikes him. Captain Obvious uses the words shady and dodgy in the same sentence. Although I would like to jump to his defense because he is the least dodgy man I know, once she has her mind set it won’t change that easily. Why I’m defending him? He may be a tad weird but he’s certainly not dodgy. He has not tried to once paw me or remotely doing anything shady in the two years I’ve known him. Unlike some people I know who try their luck after meeting twice. Strange yes, dodgy no.

I don’t blame her. She knows how gullible I can be, and she has watched me getting hurt. I know that she thinks this dude is leading me on. I cannot bring myself to tell her that her silly sister is a willing party in not wanting to let go.

I question my tenacity in holding on very often. And I cannot find the exact answer. If I apply this determination to other aspects of my life, I would be a svelte version of myself and my room would be the epitome of neatness. So apparently I also suffer from selective decision-making. Congratulations.

xoxoxoxo.

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