30 November 2013, Saturday
I am pining. Home feels empty. Something (Someone) is missing.
My mobile phone has been going wherever I go around the apartment since 9:30pm+/-. I keep checking for WhatsApp messages. I am not going to miss it when it comes. Every time the mobile buzzes, my heart skips a beat as I check WhatsApp yet again. Is the message, this time, from him? Every time the home phone rings, I scramble for the nearest handset while screaming at everyone to help pick up the call. “It could be him calling!” I’d bark, … even though it is unlikely that he would call the landline.
The feeling is vaguely familiar. The last time I felt this way, I was still single and had just restarted dating.
Alas no, the latest message is from the Head of Aesthetics (Mrs Y), updating parents on the WhatsApp chatgroup she had created on what the kids are up to at the moment. (Don’t know why, earlier on, S was added to the chatgroup and received the first three precious photos of the band in practice before I was added on S’s request, but at least one of us got the photos)
Yet, it isn’t enough. I want to hear from the one!
The wait for their scheduled 9pm hotel check-in time is just agonising! It is probably only then that he will have time to message us. But when there is still no news from him, I am inclined to find some logical explanation for it. So I give time leeway for him and his roommates to take turns getting showered and changed for the night before expecting any messages.
I wait. I have tons of things to do, but am not in the mood to cope with them. But doing nothing is even more excruciating! I have to do something! So I settle into other non-essential mindless activities, just to help time pass faster.
Time does pass, somewhat in slow-mo. 10pm bedtime around here arrives. Still nothing. … I resign myself to the fact that I am not going to hear from him tonight. We turn in, with my phone still in my hand. I lie awake, still wishing and hoping.
Then 11:04pm. A handphone rings! But it’s not the one in my hand! It’s the one in the bedhead basket. S’s. … I scramble to attention, eyeing S anxiously for clues as to who the caller is as he takes the call. …
It’s him! It’s him! It’s my baby!
It was just this morning that A2 left for HK with the School Band. This is just Day 1. How, oh how, will I survive till Day 5!