We believed we could do everything as long as we tried. We tried to defy everyone, gravity and the world – and it worked.

Like many times after they broke up, he is up late and holding a beer bottle delicately in his hand. Half of its contents has been emptied into his stomach which will later, always, end up inside the toilet when he vomits later tonight. He knows this better than everyone else that he cannot hold his liquor well and yet, he insists on drinking despite the mess it will inevitably bring. It is an ugly habit, but a habit nonetheless. He has gotten used to it after their occasional fights and eventual break-up. But there is a subconscious reason as to why he drank. It is to relive the memories where everything had been good and great between them. Those are the better times and the times that he always found himself wanting to return to. (Like now, for instance.)

Staring at the people coming out from ‘Arrivals’, he is anticipating his friend’s arrival who is supposed to show up any moment now. Checking his watch, he realises that his stomach had a credible reason to be grumbling. Looking back at the people coming into the country, he decides that his friend was probably stuck in Customs because he is trying to smuggle something illegal across the borders that they can indulge in later.

He moves away from the railing and walks out away from the crowd that had gathered near there. Not looking at where he was going, he immediately bumps into someone who has her eyes down on the floor. They both apologise for their inattentiveness to where they were going and head off in their respective directions.

But this isn’t before she leaves something important of hers in his possession, which leads to their second meeting. From their second meeting, they find themselves glancing up and catching each other’s face with only a hint of recognition across the college’s library and hallways. They are both majoring students of the Arts, although they both want to do different things. Introduced formally by respective friends, their relationship slowly buds into that of a friendship who understands each other’s talent and style for the Arts.

“I was wondering….” He tries to swallow the gulp that is slowly forming in his throat.

“Yeah?” she turns to him and looks up at him expectantly.

He isn’t sure how he should word it and has been for the whole time worrying about what exactly he should say. He decides in a split second that if he just blurts it out, it’ll be better, “…if you’d like to go out with me.”

He takes his eyes from the road and takes a glance at her for a second, anticipating her reaction. Her face remains surprisingly calm as she looks down at her hands, and dare he say it, she looks a little taken back.

“Would you like to go out with me?” When she doesn’t say anything for a few moments, he worries that he’s freaked her out. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. We can still remain friends, rig-?”

“Yes.” It comes out in a small whisper that he can barely hear but he does nonetheless. She smiles at him shyly which brings a little smile to his face as well.

From there, all their dates and all the times that they spent in each other’s company is a blur of sweetness and sugar. Certain moments are highlighted and certain moments fade into the background. Their firsts always stand out to him like the first time they held hands and the first time they hugged which both occurred conveniently the same night they became a couple. He can still remember the first time they kissed. Rain was pouring down heavily and they were running excessively to find some sort of shelter for the both of them. They stuck themselves to one another and they found a bit of a shelter in a bus stop which they stayed under. He doesn’t remember how it happened, but he remembers the feel of her lips that tastes like cherries. He remembers the time when they first went overseas together and the time when they ended up having to share one room together for the night. They ended up sharing the bed.

He still holds the bottle in his hand delicately. Only this time, he smiles bitterly (because those times were so good).

But everything has its downfall. Ours was just faster and hit rock-bottom a lot stronger, with a lot more fights, tears and prolonged silences in between.

Like many times after they broke up, she is up late with tears slowly forming in her eyes, threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Half of her tears are always wasted on him. The other half is wasted on her and her frustration and why she never seems to get over him. She knows this better than everyone else that she will always end up crying about him, more than she would care to admit. But she cries more about the ‘loss’ of ‘them’ and what could have happened if things had changed. It is an ugly habit, but a habit nonetheless. She has gotten used to it after their occasional fights and eventual break-up. But there is a subconscious reason as to why she cried. It is to relive the memories where everything had been painful and terrible between them. Those were the worse times and the times that she always found herself wanting to change. (Like now, for instance.)

Staring at the door that separated them, she is anticipating his arrival. He is supposed to show up any moment now. Checking her watch, she realises that this is merely a small ‘bump’ in their relationship. Looking back at the wall that still coaxes her into being the better person and apologising first, she decides that she will not let her pride be trampled on; she will not be the better and bigger person in this case. She is right this time and he is wrong.

She moves away from the wall and walks away from the door that he had mercilessly slammed before he left. Not looking at where she was going, she immediately stumbles over something and lands on the floor. With tears pricking her eyes, her image of him is distorted when he opens the door again. They both end up apologising for their inattentiveness to each other and embrace.

But this time they talk and sort out their problems, in hopes of avoiding a second argument about the same topic. They resolve to pay more attention to one another and spend more time in each other’s company and their relationship is possibly better it is at this point than it is at any other. They were both busy majoring students of the Arts, although they both want to do different things. Introduced formally by respective friends, their relationship slowly withers into a former shadow of what it used to be.

“I was wondering….” She tries to swallow the gulp that is slowly forming in .

“Yeah?” he turns to her and looks down at her expectantly.

She isn’t sure how she should word it and has been for the whole time worrying about what exactly she should say. She decides in a split second that if she just blurts it out, it’ll be better. “…if we should break up.”

She takes her eyes from the hands and takes a glance at him for a second, anticipating his reaction. His face remains surprisingly calm as he stares at the road ahead, and dare she say it, he looks a little taken back.

“I don’t think it’s really working out.” When he doesn’t say anything for a few moments but continues to drive towards their destination, she worries that she’s crossed the line. “It’s okay. I think it’s the best decision for our relationship. We can still remain friends, rig-?”

“Yes, we should.” It comes out in a small whisper that she can barely hear but she does nonetheless. He suddenly stops the car and gets out, slamming the car door back in the process.

From there, all their arguments and all the times that they spent in each other’s company is a blur of bitterness and blood. Certain moments are highlighted and certain moments fade into the background. Every time they raise their voices at each other is when she feels like crying because she always realises that their arguments are pointless. She can still remember the time they had their first argument that quickly escalates into weeks of no contact with one another. It ends with raised voices, smashing china and slamming doors. When their friends force them to sort out their differences, they don’t say anything to each other and simply stare before another round of arguments ensued. When they eventually do apologise, he has already drunk too many bottles and she has wasted too many tears. She remembers the aftermath of their arguments when he is silent and she is scared to break it and she realises that what they have is hopeless.

She still lets the tears fall delicately. Only this time, she smiles bitterly (because those times could have been so much better).