“You’re jaded,” he responded.
Him and I know everything there had to be known about each other - something that comes with being close friends for an absurd amount of time. Not childhood-friends-long, but long enough. Each up and every down have been divulged to him at our sporadic catch-ups. Sporadic, because we would probably find daily company to our distaste. Sporadic, yet I feel enriched at the end of every meet.
“I don’t have the words to perfectly put it, but try imagining this,” he struggles to explain to me what he thinks I might be going through.
“Imagine there’s this tiny piece of…rock. And this is going to sound very stupid, but imagine this tiny rock. And then imagine this big one. Now everyone seems to enjoy this big rock,” he breaks into fits of laughter as soon as he realises the joke.
“You have been enjoying this big rock, along with everyone for a while now.”
Pause. Uncontrollable laughter again. Our ayam masak lemak sits half-touched on the table.
He takes a sip of sparkling water and continues, “but suddenly you see this tiny rock right next to the big one, and you find that you like it better.”
“This tiny rock has always been there, remember that. And there are a lot of tiny little pieces of rocks around the big rock and you’re slowly starting to notice them and, well, enjoy them. Take your time.”
Happy birthday to me.