A Letter To J

Dear J,

No, I'm not gonna ask you how many women you've slept with after me or where did you sleep last night. I don't wanna know, really. I just wanted to tell you that the other day, well it's actually quite a while ago actually, about 2 or 3 weeks ago, I saw somebody exactly looked like you when I was waiting for a movie at a cinema. He even had your grey hair, your way of walking and all.

The only difference was that guy I saw was pushing a baby cart. I don't think you need all the information how the unexpected scene got my knees weak.

It would be good, though, to see you pushing a baby cart. You, who confessed to me the minute we landed on that paradise island how afraid you were of commitment. I just faintly hope that if ever you'll really push your own baby cart, please don't use the name Abigail. You hated the name so much for a girl, remember? If we had given away the dream of ever pushing a baby cart together, at least allow me to someday use the name without knowing you'll use it too.

Life really is funny, don't you think J?