Nigel and I have a habit of wishing each other whenever a new day rolls along. It started when I was still in Perth.
Sort of like how one wishes a birthday girl or boy “Happy Birthday!” or someone says “Happy New Year!” on 31 December, when we were texting at night and the clock hands hit 12AM, Nigel would text “Happy 12th!” or something else, depending on what date it was. It might sound silly, but given the distance, texting was basically all we had. And the wishing felt like a prelude before we started to lament the days till we would meet again.
“50 days more,” I’d wistfully type after he uttered a new day’s greeting.
“They’ll pass very fast.” He’d quickly reply.
Was he right? No. The days never passed quickly. They never did. But we were definitely glad when we got to meet again.
I’ve been back for awhile now but these days, Nigel still chirpily greets me when the clock strikes 12AM. Yet it wasn’t until yesterday when he did so that I found myself reminiscing its origins.
Have a happy day, everyone.