And now, I’m better, happier, and richer.

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Of thoughts and conversations

I have a weird habit of plugging in my earphones just to keep people out of my personal space.

You see, as much as I crave attention, I prefer being left on my own most of the time because it allows me to sort out emotions and untangle the train of thoughts I have during my waking hours.

So much to ponder on, yet so little time.

Today, I plugged in my earphones.

I ate lunch by myself because my partner was on a holiday, and I didn’t want to bother my teammates to go with me.

And so I sat there, pretending to watch a video, while listening to what everyone talks about during their much-awaited lunch break.

Guess what I found out?

Everyone was talking about other people.

Family.
Teammates.
Bosses.
Enemies.
Old flames.
Even acquaintances.

They talked about what they did, what happened to people they knew and the chat went on.

And this got me thinking — not in a condescending way, but curiously —

Is this what happens when people grow older?

Do we not find joy in talking about ideas anymore?

About theories that challenge our beliefs?

About topics that piqued our interests when we were children?

Do we all end up losing the joy of wonder once bills keep coming in?

What changed?

I love —

the way your eyes fix its gaze on me while I laugh out loud from binge watching 2 Days 1 Night episodes;

the way you sigh in resignation while I sing out of tune or dance myself silly because I’m too bored;

the way your arms reach out for a hug while you pull me out of my space-out zone;

the way you lean in for a goodnight kiss while you fight your way through my pillow fort;

the way you embrace me tight while I talk in my sleep, move around or start sobbing at worst;

the way you carefully make my morning coffee while my mind still starts to load;

the way your hand searches for mine while we catch our breath from walking up endless stairs to work;

the way you cheer me up while I rant about things that are out of our control;

I love the way you keep me close every time I push you away.

You know I’ve been having a lot of bad days and I take it out on you most of the time, yet you choose to stay —

not because you didn’t have a choice —

but because you made a choice.

You made me your choice.