I miss you like crazy
Even more than words can say
I miss you like crazy
Every minute of every day
(Boy) I'm so down when (you're) not around
I miss you, miss you, miss you
I miss you like crazy

- Moffatts; Miss You Like Crazy

There, the chorus says it all. It's been, what, almost half a year since I'd even seen K, let alone talk to him (rather, acknowledge him. We hardly even talk). And as much as I hide my disappointment to others, I cannot lie to myself and pretend it's fine I don't get to see him. No, it's not fine; neither is it "not a problem because you'll see him again next week". Because chances are, I won't see him again.

In the words of a very famous philosopher-wannabe cum colleague (who was dishing out these words to someone else then), "How to be friends like that? Talk also never!" In a Singlish sort of way, she did make sense. But to be friends, we need to strike up a conversation and to do that, we need to meet, no?

Like that, how?