Dear Fiary Diary

Day 9

And I did.

Out of nowhere I started having to withdraw a lot, my account became dazzling all of a sudden, and ta-da I became a regular, not because I had to see her of course — why would I do that?— but because my account really became dazzling and I had found a gorgeous pers...ahem... better place, better place really. Who would wanna go back to that old place?

One day I found the courage to ask her name. I was able to look into those pearl eyes of hers and asked.

"What's your name?"

Maybe because I'd been a simple passer-by to the whole world, that was the first time I'd ever heard of such a name, she later told me it probably was because I wasn't paying attention. But I really doubt, I really had never heard the name before.

But as life would have it, a couple weeks later, I heard that same name on radio, a presenter with that same name miraculously appeared, and more weeks into it I found another person with the same name. But she really was the first, the name was strange to me at the time, and even years later, it's still a rare name. I guess it's one really suiting for someone as she — a rare blue drop.

She had an aura about her that felt soothing and was calming. It wasn't forced or played, it was just lived.

Being a regular customer as I became, each moment caused a craving for the next, I'd withdraw for the day and feel like not leaving, and like a dry mud craving water, to withdraw became a hunger — joke apart, pause on the flowy romancy for a moment, my dry mud account really craved water, and the withdrawing really had to do with hunger, not necessarily directly but still. I was the one in charge of the cooking, so most times I got credited for the sake of the kitchen — you see the hunger there...? Mm?— and other times, other things, but my account was just dazzling, period.

One day leading to another, things began looking good. To move from customer to close customer needed a little drama or at least a tag, and I got one.

After our first meet —and the whole me having to go look for change because she couldn't find—, on the second — being the second time I went to withdraw from her— something happened.

Of course I wasn't going to withdraw something appalling, it was best not to push it— wouldn't want that 'tag' to be one kind customer like that or closely worse, broke customer, not that she was likely to do that, but life is better with less unnecessary chances.

Going to withdraw the second time, she also didn't have change and after waiting for some while whilst she looked for, I took it upon myself to go get the change, and ta-da I tagged it 'stressing customer'. By my third withdrawal I called her my stress giving customer, and our journey began, ish. I think that's when I asked her name.

I began visiting regularly and started getting to know her. She hated heights, said she wasn't going to live in a story building, bungalow all the way. Her taste in music was classic, she preferred the old takers. She couldn't eat noodles, felt they looked like worms. And her writing, woah, like petals, premium petals, used to decorate a perfectly shipped mosaic art piece, it was golden, it was... just kidding, it wasn't anything, her hand writing didn't match her painting-like entity nor her pearls eyes, not even close. My hands meet pen meet paper is a sight to behold, an edified calligraphy — according to my wish of course, it is so though, but on good days, very good days. And this writing of mine, looks fine when next to hers — who knows, maybe beauty is contagious. And even yet still, they had their specialty.

Overtime I graduated from regular customer to regular visitor. Most days she sat alone at her shop, not doing much, just waiting for the next customer. I'd come to 'withdraw' and finding her by herself, I'd poke talks and she'd return the courtesy, and gradually I started staying back longer, to talk with her, and one day she offered me a seat.

"Why are you standing under the sun, come and sit down inside"

If it wasn't for the fact that I knew true 'containmentship', I would have ran in circles being unable to contain the joy I felt in that moment by her gesture.

"I should come inside?"

I had to ask, who knew if an alien cloned her voice and whispered those words to my hearing, I had to be sure.

"Ah ah, come inside nah, you don't want to come inside?"

My brows tilted upwards, 'don't want to come inside' as how? I made my way inside to the seat she offered me — a lengthy bench— and took my sit, with tremendous joy at that.

And thus, I'd come and stay quite the time, and after a while, I started seeing her off, I'd walk her to a T-junction after her day's work, and walk myself back the 15 mins walk journey.

First day I planned on seeing her off, I made a list of what to say during the walk, word for word, how she'll likely reply, what to say next, how to pause in-between the dialogue — straight up 'A' level writing skills at work. Though I never had use for it, like most things the conversation had a mind of it's own.

Having the youth convention close, meetings were held everyday of the week, by 4:30pm. Which meant I had to arrange my schedule, be at her shop 2 or 3, stay with her till 4, then leave for the meetings — it was a 30 mins walk.

I remember she asking me why I was having regular meetings, and I was like, "I'm auditioning"

"Wow, best of luck" she said.

Of course, grin to grin did my smile go— for the record, my smile did that on its own , it had nothing to do with me.

One of the days, after moving from her shop for the youth convention meetings, I was supposed to meet up with her before she closed so I'd see her off. Her closing time was 6pm and so was the meetings. The first time, I was able to meet up, I had my ride, so I got there on time-enough to be able to see her off. You have to understand though, the T- junction were I'd drop her off, for her to get a ride to her place, was a junction you'd have to pass to get to church, where we also held the youth convention meetings — like a 15 mins walk. So I'd have to move from where I was, past the junction, to her shop, then move with her back to the junction.

And this particular day I had to still go back, the normal meetings were closed, choir had some extra time, and I hadn't auditioned, Mr Coordinator, was busy with his work, and I had some 'duties' to attend to.

After the close of the regular meeting, I dashed off — I wouldn't call it a complete dash, not like I started running or something— I had to go attend to my seeing off duty, I was sure I was going to still meet up with Mr Coordinator, my ride was consistent so I could do it — my natural rides, incase you ever wondered.

But now things had moved beyond auditioning — having the whole choir news Mr Coordinator dumped on me.

How was I going to manage? think about my 'duties', this also came with the night breeze as it washed over my face that night.