So tomorrow is the anniversary of mine and ug's tragic moment: saying goodbye to each other for a week, a week that revealed something deeper in how I felt towards him. It was a painful day: blurry, surreal, hot, and depressing. I couldn't believe that I just sat there and let myself lose him, to circumstances, even though he was really important to me.

Now this fear of ug's fatalism is here in front of me. But perhaps this anniversary is a mere WARNING that I can spare unnecessary heartache by putting my foot down smack on his fatalism to reveal what I truly want: to work it out without drama and clean-cut endings.

If only I could figure out what we're doing tomorrow. And so he doesn't refuse. I want to go out. No staying in. We have to be more than what we've been for the last months: house bums.