I Wonder

Dearest my not-so-secret crush,

1. I wonder what's on your mind when I suddenly nudge you on Facebook and simply say 'hey, how is it going?' or 'yay, you are online!'. Are you annoyed? Will you get bored? What is on your mind when this particular event happens? Are you happy like me, who have always been looking forward to see you go online on Facebook, or am I just another girl who nudges you whenever you're online?

2. I wonder what you're thinking when my name appears on your phone screen. Do you get excited as I am? Do you hope that that text won't be the last one from me? Do you go, 'yes, she texts me!' or do you just act like nothing special happens, like, biasalah text kawan sendiri. What exactly are the things that are playing in your bloody mind, when it comes to me? I'd like to know, please.

3. I wonder if you realize how flawless you are, just by standing there singing the National Anthem with one of your hands being tucked in your pocket. I wonder if you know how fascinated I am by those crooked, long fingers when we are reciting the Ikrars. I wonder if you know how your curly hair looks perfect from behind, shows how a simple Malay guy could stand out just by having the Malay curly hair. I wonder if you know that every assembly session, I was smiling and amazed by these little things you possessed.

4. I noticed you like sports. I wonder if you know that I've been there watching you playing basketball with your mates whenever there's a PE class. I wonder if you know that I'm one the supporting, screaming girls (well, except for the fact that I don't scream). I wonder if you know it is your fine complexion that they're looking at, not at your bad moves. I wonder if I'm as noticeable as you are.

5. I wonder, is it comfortable not to wear socks when we're wearing shoes? I know you've been wearing the best shoes to school. Converse, Vans, name it. I saw you wore them. And I couldn;t help noticing that you didn't include socks in your fashion code. I'm quite sure if there's another boy who does that too, I'll go, 'ew, mind your personal hygiene, will you?'. But you. What is wrong with you? I mean, what is wrong with me? How can you make such a filthy deed looks perfectly fine when you're the doer?


So you come to school punctually at 7.20 a.m. every day. You go down for recess slightly 5 minutes later than my friends and I do. You wear your tie every Monday for the official assembly, but on normal days, you couldn't care less about ethics as long as your school shirt is not stained by sambal or kuah after recess. You act like you're a cool gamer, but somehow I can see your noobness. You have two houses, and one is just 300 meters away from my place. Your favourite porno star is Maria Ozawa and your deepest insecurity is that you feel unattractive (while on the other hand, you are attractive).

I wonder if you are as observant as I am.
.
.
.
.
.
Of course not.
I have to wear short skirts with long legs, I have to be pretty, my skin has to be as white as Snow White, my teeth needs to be in a perfect row and my nose has to undergo some nose job, then only will you observe me. I have to act like some young tramps who don't give a shit about their future, I have to act stupid, I absolutely need to giggle pretentiously at your stupid jokes, then only will I get a piece of your attention. Kan?

I wonder how those bitches see you. Do you they see you the way I do? Of course not.