Prologue
For the nth time, I just kept on inhaling your rosy scent. That distinct scent that's not too sweet but just enough to fly me to paradise.
But then, it's time for you to go down out of the bus.
You know what's hard?
It is that I can't wave goodbye to you.
Reasons.
You don't know me.
I'm just one of the strangers you always get to meet everyday. But I'm not your ordinary stranger. I've been always with you on the road.
At this specific road.
We always get together, inside this bus.
But you.
You're the one who always leaves me. And that I'm always looking forward for tomorrow. That I'll be able to share this bus with you again. At the same seat. Behind your seat. At the same spot beside the window.
I've already memorized this place. This place you always consider as your stop.
But how about me?
Did you ever notice me?
Have you ever laid your eyes on me?
Like I always stare your reflection from the glass window, with your sight locked on the vast ocean we get to always pass during the ride.
That whenever the bus abruptly stops waking you up from your deepest nap, I intend to see you face to face. But you just won't recognize me. Like I don't exist. Like you always pop me like a bubble, gone and unseen.
I sometimes see you with your earphones on. Banging your head slightly. I just wonder what music you always play.
Don't tell me you like rock music? Not my genre but for you I'll change my taste in music.
Or maybe R&B? Then we're on the same page.
Or do you like Daylight by Maroon 5? Just one of the anthems of my life.
Can you sing it with me? And for you, I'll sing my heart out like having no care in the world.
That whenever the driver sets the volume of the music up he usually keeps for himself, I intend to hum with it even when it's not my favorite sound.
But you.
You just won't take off your earphones and hear me sing. Like you don't want some other's sounds invade your ears. Like you always shut yourself in an imaginary soundproof room, mute and unheard.
For days, I have been thinking.
That I'll introduce myself to you.
I don't know what will happen but I'd be better to take the risk. Today's the 99th day that I have been keeping this to myself. Maybe then tomorrow, my hundredth day's my lucky day. I hope so.
Miss... Uggh. I still don't know your name. I'll just call you Rosy. It's what your scent keeps on telling me. Maybe then see you tomorrow. Again, until we meet.
