Trip to Malacca

Malacca, the history town of itself and including some history of mine.

After some dozens of request from my national service friends, i decided to head down alone for a trip and meet up with them. The only thing that makes me excited was, i'm quite an attention at the town center (Cause other tourists mainly are families and elders). But there's no "encounter" with some males around our age. =__=

A trip to Malacca with no satay celup. Due to one of my male friend are muslim. And i heard muslim at Malacca are kinda strict, kinda afraid that we will be caught going out with a muslim guy. And force us to marry him. That's what i heard from other Malaccans.

To those who absent, i was wonder the gathering doesn't make any sense? Or is it the memory we shared, doesn't important anymore?

Pieces of memory

It was a really nice saturday afternoon, no rain. Just striking sunshine, so suitable for laundry. Laundry itself can't satisfy my weekend mood, too much time to spare. End up standing infront of makeup table for hours, to tidy all those different bottles of everything.

Turning everything up side down.

Found a metal box.

I recognize the box, and i thought i had thrown it away when i tidied last time. It remain at the inside corner of my drawer.

It took me kinda mentally huge effort to open the box. To read again all those notes written by first love, everytime it trigger a lot of confusing emotions.

Open one of the folded note from the stacks. I thought i will cry at first. But strangely i have the courage to read the second note.

I can only feel glad that i've been once putting all my efforts into this relationship.

Again, i put it back into the same drawer.