Whenever I gaze out of my window, under the endless clear dark night I sometimes see the pale moon gazing back at me. That image often makes me remember of him. They’re rather bitter at times and sweet at others, just like a cup of coffee. The memories spent with him were rich and definitely unforgettable.

I remember the first time I met him. It was raining hard and I had forgotten my umbrella. Like a dream- he, who had just alighted the same bus as me, appeared behind me offering to share his. It was the first time I laid my eyes on him. I still remember his tanned skin, his warm black eyes that were dark like the night - and his beautiful smile. Just like all the books I had read and dreams I had dreamt about, it was really love at first sight. We spent many happy times together simply sitting and talking. We were friends but nothing more and I enjoyed just watching him and being with him.

He walked me home one particular day. The moon, a silvery orb amidst its indigo blanket, observed us strolling down the lonely path. I can still recall the smell of freshly cut grass and the impending rain. As we approached my home, he reached over; his normally carefree eyes were serious. I wished he had not told me. A beautiful outing marred by the news of him migrating was clearly etched into my brain. The fading view of his back and the shivery feeling of the rain falling over me, drenching me was something I could never forget.

The moon that is so round and pale; the moon that is hooded like a sleepy eye will one day perhaps one day watch us again. After all who knows where fate will lead us to? Until then, the memories of him and I will remain like the bittersweet aftertaste of coffee, engraved into my memories.