Infatuation.

I started keeping a journal because of him. In it, i wrote about every encounter, every single word he ever said to me. I wrote about my feelings, about things i'm too embarrass to talk about with friends, or family. It was orange - that journal - because the warm orange-y color reminded me of how i felt about him.

But that same color has started fading.

For the last few months, i haven't heard from him at all. No hello in the morning. No new little gossips about his day. No nothing. It wasn't that he fell off the face of the earth. Far from it. He was always there, among shadows. He was there any time i wanted to talk to him. But me being me, i couldn't bring myself to initiate a decent hi.

Shy, mostly. Pride, partly.

I spent a whole week before his birthday thinking of wishing him a friendly birthday wish, and then another week regretting that i didn't. Eid Mubarak came and went and nothing happened. You could say, at this point in time I've almost given up on ever talking to him again.

But suddenly, he came knocking on my door. Out of the blue. Totally unannounced.

And it was all i could do to hide my excitement. I was smitten. Everything he said was like a drop of cold water in a scorching desert. He could have asked me to jump off a cliff for him and i'd agree in an heartbeat. Because it's him, i'm not quite myself. I walk on clouds. My voice has a singing quality.The world becomes awash in a hue of colorful rainbows.

Of course, this is exaggeration. But you get what i mean.

Sometimes i wonder why i do the things i do. And most times i'm lft still wondering. This is just one of those mysteries that has kept me wondering for years -"Why do i like him so much?"

The answer still eludes me.