♣ A post that is written with full of hormones about my ex-boyfriend.

I got a text when I was watching New Year's Eve this morning from my ex-boyfriend. I was surprised when he texted me. Usually, I texted him first (it's not that he didn't want to communicate with me, no. But I know he had a very personal reason. I couldn't complain since I appreciated him and his decision). I was so excited. My very first reaction was like Emily Charlton when she's got a text message from Miranda Priestly's driver, who told her that Miranda's coming (see the video!) and of course I was a little dramatic. I even toke a bath after he called me for a little investigation-about-who-are-at-house before his posibility if he would go to my house. I had no idea why, I was just prepared if he really would be here. Or maybe I need to cool off my head.

So he was here. He came with his black motorcycle, black jacket, black shoulderbag, and white t-shirt.

I loved when we giggled just because we never met again since I was freshman. I loved when we stared each other because we'd grown up a lot. I loved when we started talking. I love when we gave feedback for each other's story. I loved when we remember our middle school time. I loved when he told me about his ups and downs life. I loved when I told mine, I even almost cried. I loved when we, apparently still, flirt to each other. Silly confession: I loved when I planned to give him a goodbye-see-you-later hug before he went home, which didn't happen. Because I was so glad he visited me and made my day.

I don't know, if you told me, "You seem still loving him". Maybe, I don't know. What I know for sure: he comforts me a lot. Every conversation topic is maybe to discuss. I also have sensed maturity in his personality. I like him. And like him with his world.

I want you to know that I'm happy because I met him. Our relationship is over. But we're in good condition. Maybe too good. Our relationship is more than I can describe here. 

Image via weheartit.