That page about you.

I was sitting in my chair perusing through the life jottings of the people I’ve grown to love, and noticed the excessive melancholy languishing around in the air akin to a veil of The Plague. For no visibly obvious reason, I started to feel this plague gradually terrorising me, that choke in the throat and that rising discomfort in my nose, followed by a very brutal effort to not tear.

I wasn’t at all depressed – because I’d have already known by now by self-diagnosing all the symptoms that surface. Sad, perhaps, nostalgic, contemplative – about yesterday’s events, about someone. About a good friend.

That was when I just sat down and let thoughts enter and leave me like a cellular osmosis. If there’s anything that you must know, it’s the fact that I always leave opportunities unattended and let them slip away, never to be found again.

Yesterday was such an opportunity, a clear sign of revelation but I failed to seize it, act upon it. A mental chain held me back as I felt apprehensive, I hesitated, and I simply let it pass through me. Like a cellular osmosis.

I visited that page about you, mate, and I’m somewhat heartened by the fact that the sentence that affected me the most had been removed, replaced by several simple lines about yourself together with some pictorial accompaniments. You accompany my hopes, my dreams, and just for the record.. I just thought that you should know.