The Ghost In The Other Room
First of all, I like the mornings.
The mornings are usually devoid of her, and for at least an hour I’m by myself, enjoying my music, and sitting there. Waiting for her.
I like the way that the door kind of announces her arrival; how the fingerprint machine ultimately refuses to read her thumbprint, and always protests. I hear the protestation. Then I hear when the finger machine gives up and lets her in.
I like the way she never does anything with her hair until she arrives, and after passing by me and saying a small hello with her nose and a small wave, she hurries into her room and starts her ritual.
I like the way she spends at least half an hour with her hair, doing whatever it is she does, and it always comes out great. Usually women are worried that people see them when their hair is half-done, but she never minds me knocking and coming in to chat while she does her ritual. I like that too.
After that, I like how she checks her make up to the mirror than could never be placed right, forcing the user to bend over a bit to get a closer look.
I like how I tease her ritual by just smiling at the door, and she always says “well, you know me.”
If I don’t tease her, I like how she calls me on the intercom (when she can actually yell) to ask if I have had breakfast or not. And I like going to breakfast with her. I wait until 10 o’clock to have breakfast with her, because that’s usually when the ritual finishes.
I like how she’s never fussy of what to eat, so usually I can choose what I want; although most of the time I’m also indecisive of what to eat anyway.
I like how her room smells after she has put on her cologne, which frankly can sometimes be smelled from just outside the door as well.
I like how we always try to go to lunch together, and always tell each other if either of us is going out for lunch elsewhere.
I’m not much of a talkative person, so I like to listen to her talk about anything, even though sometimes I think it could be bullshit or wishful thinking.
I like how she talks, and how it always grabs your attention, even though it could be something boring, or just plainly talking about herself.
I like how she shares such unecessarily intimate things, like how successful or how long her latest toilet visit was.
I like it when we walk together, she always walks close to me and sometimes our hands brush together, and how she always walks as fast as I do and never asking me to slow down; to the point that if we chat while we talk she sometimes loses her breath, then I slow down.
I like how we make-believe any single topic of discussion, expanding the possible stories from the mundane to the ridiculous. Any small topic will do.
I like it how she’s usually hungry in the afternoon, so we go for a quick snack break to the store below. Well, not only in the afternoon, for that matter.
I like it when she seems so helpless with her computer, and always asking me to come to aid.
I like the fact that she’s gadget-concious, but sometimes not knowing of the more specific information, which she always ask me. Always. And I like how she sometimes envies my gadgets.
I also like daydreaming with her of what we’ll do when we’re rich, what we’ll buy, what we’d be doing to get that rich, and what we do with all that money.
I like it how from the moment I knew her, she has always talked about some scheme on how to make a profitable business or simply make money, that it was at first irritating, and now adorable.
I like it that although she seems like a well-to-do person, she values hard work and the value of money itself (maybe thus her love of it).
I like it that apparently money isn’t really everything to her, that apparently there are more things that are important. She just doesn’t show it much.
I like it at the end of the day, we usually try to go home together on the bus, if not going somewhere for dinner and window shopping.
I like it when she sends an sms at an unexpected hour about something insignificant. Then I reply something insignificant as well.
If there’s one thing I don’t like… I don’t like that I don’t know how long it will last.
[PS to readers: think what you want.]