But it was right too.
I made quite a lot of progress on homework this morning. Just in under 20 minutes, I read 15 pages. I got out of bed before 12.
And then I left for a wholesome lunch with the sweet creature, Neha. I left our suite wearing my favorite blue and white flower top. The one that makes me feel like a sexy baddie. Hugging me like a second, flowery skin. And together, our two pretty selves sat down for brunch, eating meals we weren't excited about. Smiling and deep in conversation about how our suitelife has changed us. How each of us have changed and taught each other, to be better people for others, and for ourselves.
"It's so easy to fall in love with Naina. She already has so much love for herself," Neha says. All sincerity and admiration in her eyes. I agreed heartily. Anyone looking or speaking with Naina could tell in a heart beat.
"Garima would never ever judge anyone for anything. She sees all the sides to every story, and takes no one's side until she hears everyone properly." I began, excited to talk about Garima in general.
"She's like a caretaker too," Neha added.
"Haha, Garima and Naina are both our caretakers, not gonna lie.” Neha and I agreed on it all.
Very soon after, Zhao joined us for lunch, as if summoned. His intense morning energy only partially eased by the small packet of pink "Royal Peach Milk Tea" powder he brought. Something to mix with hot water. Zhao is one of the most intense people I've ever met in my life. An opinion, about everything. An argument, about everything. It's hard not to admire that, or admire how self-assured he is. His voice, a boom across any room. You'd forget that he's the kind of guy that always consumes sweet matcha milk tea powder as often as he can. You'd forget he maybe like, likes babies. Haha of course he likes babies!
At how wide my eyes had gotten when I asked about his Peach Milk Tea powder, he asked if I'd like to try.
"Yes! Thank you Zhao!"
When the warm cup of milk tea was made, I tried to pour it into my empty yogurt cup. He glared at me, haha, and in his commanding, annoyed voice: "Just drink it from my cup, Ngoc. Come on, man."
And it was super good. Woah. I've just never seen people so comfortable sharing food with each other, as people do here in Singapore. Ian from Australia, joined us later. Carrying several stories and a lot of questions about whether or not it was Zhao that he had ran into last night. A little hung over from the night before, Ian recalled seeing Zhao when he needed him. A slight smile as he shared the memory, as if it’s a memory worth remembering.
"It was me, Zhao, that you saw, bro," Zhao said confidently. And it was Zhao that scanned him and his crew up.
That's the thing about Zhao. He's the most gentle, motherly soul, when he wants to be. But even in his brass way of words, he shows his motherly instincts there as well ha.
I eventually tired myself out with all of the comp sci that my table was speaking. Python and packages and "line-by-line." Neha, an excited thing as she talks about something she cares about. I didn't have the heart to leave early, but if I didn't, I wouldn't have listened to much.
As I moved to leave, Neha joined me in leaving too, even though she probably wanted to stay and speak with Zhao more about -- computer science. Gosh, the girl.
"I feel like it's always me that talks. I want to know more about you, Ngoc," Neha says, after I asked her another question.
That's when it hit me. In her unplanned but quick-witted ways, Neha had identified a big insecurity of mine.
It's always been this way, but I've had so many conversations where... I stray the questions away from myself. As if I didn't have great things to say myself. As if I were scared for my life that I would bore someone. It's a fear rooted in childhood, and gosh, of course I know that I have valuable things to say. Of course, I'm gifted with a voice that is strong. Or more like... I've trained my voice to be as strong and clear as it is today. When I was a pre-k student, I would read books to my stuffed animals, showing each page of the picture book to them as if they were students. As if I were a teacher.
As if I spoke English well enough to read a picture book in a voice as clear as Mrs. Lowry, my pre-K teacher.
I am constantly reminded by friends and family that I'm a great storyteller. I have the content and the voice for it, yet a part of me, struggles with acknowledging these sayings. Struggles with feeling valuable. As if I could be interesting enough to hold your attention. Even writing out this fear feels silly. I've proven myself and these fears wrong time and time again, yet bits of it are all around.
But hey. Years of college has passed. Study abroad is happening right now, and gradually and surely, I am chipping away this fear. It's not perfectly chipped away. But my friends steady me. And I am steady, if not a willow to the wind.
So Neha, saw through me, with her passing comment. She might not know it -- but she hit the bulls-eye. I'm 21 years old. And a part of me, is still afraid to speak, hahahaha. Silly girl who? Silly girl me.
I arrived at the suite, grabbing our broom set and leaving it outside for Finlay to come pick up so he could spring clean his own suite. Finlay's energy is so nurturing to run into. Kind of like, a really old friend vibe. It's as if years has passed each time we meet, but we are never ever short on conversation. Finlay is a goddamn firework. Wisdom, world-building humor, and all. He brings out the worst in me, and sees the best in me. That's why I keep on running into him.
I eventually pick up homework in my room. Alone for an hour or two. Busy taking Instagram breaks every 10 minutes of work, like an addict. There I was on IG, getting a fix of shit off my feed, curious about the news, about others lives, whatever new thing I could learn like how to properly hold chopsticks. But I'm Vietnamese, goddamn it! Then—
First mistake: I saw something I shouldn't have.
And I burst into tears. For hours. I felt like I couldn't stop crying.
When would all of it stop? My palms to my eyes, head to the sky, as I took it all in. What this new reality meant. I had deluded myself.
Big lesson of the year: I'm fragile as heck.
It's all in my head that I'm this strong, confident creature. But god, am I fragile.
I was texting a friend, eyes red, when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Naina.
"Ohmigod are you crying Ngoc?"
She hugged me tightly, as I told her everything. Every fear. Explaining the tears. She looked deep into my eyes, as if she could set an anchor deep in my heart, as if I was a capsizing ship happening in front of her. And I was. Torn and shredded— unfixable I felt. Who else will I belong to? But her hugs and words shed some light to the situation. Just enough. And better, I could feel.
Later, Naina and Shikhar would head off together, and together so cutely, get themselves the hot ass, spicy ass mala.
While the two were gone, Neha found me. And I shared it all again with her. Our hands gripped each other. And like Naina, well, both of them. Both of them know how to make me feel not silly about the situation. About what I was feeling and why I was feeling it. Neha gripped me like she knew, as if she could pull away the negative energy in my body, and replace it with the light from hers. Her voice and words, like water, washing the poison from my bleeding wounds.
When Shikhar returned with Naina and sat himself down, it's as if he too knew what happened. His eyes looked on at me as if he knew I was hurting. Perhaps, well... not even perhaps haha. My face is more honest than I think it is. I can't hide a feeling for more than an hour. I'm too honest. Whatever reason it was, his presence was ultra comforting. So peaceful. Like a rock, and god, it is a match made in heaven. If you know what I mean. ;)
Very quickly after, I went with Garima for dinner. Our walk was peaceful, windy. Cool air on my exposed shoulders. My pretty top, billowing out and around into whatever the wind wanted. Fate, out of my hands.
I wasn't ready to relive all of those sad feelings again a third time, and not in front of Garima. A midterm herself to worry about. I knew that I wanted to keep this conversation positive. Perhaps sooner than I feel, I'll be ready to tell her what happened without welling up too quickly.
Yet as I walked alongside Garima, I felt myself loosen. After sharing with Naina and Neha, I felt a lot more steady. The song, "Whatever It Takes" by Imagine Dragons an anthem and mantra. One I could hear in the wind around me. My suitemates, the shoulders I needed. The arms that wrapped and held me standing. I could feel that hug even if we're just walking alongside each other.
Ian from South Korea didn't text us that he would join Garima and I for dinner. He just appeared. That's his thing. He shows he cares through actions, not words, haha. As always, we called out his name. Waved vigorously at the guy. We received nothing more than this strange, hand shake twist thing he does with his left hand -- the hand that often holds his phone. So it looks like he's shaking a bug off his phone whenever he acknowledges us, while his head is turned towards the food options. As if we're greeting more his hand than his face.
What a silly young man.
Dinner was calm. Nicholas. Ian. Garima. Me. Simple. Sweet. Peaceful. Perhaps we're too different to talk about anything that would include all of us -- but quickly, the magical question of: "How was your day?" Ian answered with all the important details.
He had gotten a hair cut today. And yes, from a Korean barber shop. One that he'd Googled randomly. 40 minutes from here. Fair game. Unfortunately, his barber lady speaks plenty and while it was very entertaining, it was, unfortunately, plenty. At this, Nicholas made a shocked face and interrupted, "Oooo better not talk too much around this guy, haha." He said this with all his cheeks and teeth like a little kid. Ian smiled into his plate, shaking his head in a small no, as if he wanted us to keep talking lots and didn't mind at all. I asked if the barber was our age. And no, she wasn't.
"She told me not to think, because she thinks I think too much."
This is counterproductive advice, because Ian is the definition of a thoughtful man.
Eventually, someone behind our table burped loudly. Which triggered me a lot because... BECAUSE I BURP A LOT AND TOO LOUDLY AND CONFIDENTLY FOR MY OWN GOOD. I am a lady after all. :P But WOAH, always. In front of all of them. All the time. Our table definitely heard the burp behind us and myself triggered, I wondered aloud.
"Shit. Oh my god. How are you all still my friends? I burp literally every day, all the time. How do you all deal with this so well? How are you really still my friends?" I asked.
Everyone burst into laughter, as if I made a joke. And in many ways, yes, I had, but a part of me wondered if it ever really was an issue haha. Turns out it never was.
Ian asked, "Wait, are you ever embarrassed by your burps?"
"Of course not!" I responded.
"Then that's good. And also, when you do burp, I try not to look at you, so that you can feel that it's natural. That it's not that big a deal," he said earnestly.
Ian is the definition of a good human. And what do I do to good people? I throw out courtesy, and ask them strange questions as if it were the most important thing to know.
"Ian..." I said seriously. My voice sounding careful and calculated. As if I was going to ask him something philosophical again, as I usually do.
Oh, but no. It was just a, "So Ian... have you ever burped in public before?"
Again, our table burst out in laughter again. Garima really thought I was going to ask something serious, but here I was, attacking a good man.
"Haha, next question. Next question," Ian said, laughing at his plate again while semi-nervously looking up at me.
For privacy purposes, we were all quite wowed by his answer to the original question. Amazing.
Haha, I'm too brave for my own good and for the good of others. I come in. And I ruin. I come in, and I test Ian really really hard. Ian, if you're reading this, I'm so fucking sorry for testing you as I have. WELP.
The four of us shuffled out of the dining hall. To return back home, to the mundane and the studying because it's a goddamn Sunday night.
I felt better. A bit better after that dinner. I had it in me, to still be positive. To be distracted and so insulated within my own sense and world of humor. To be surrounded by good company, and forget this sharp pain in my brain. A sharp reminder of everything I wanted to forget. That I had already forgotten.
We stopped at the Elm Common Lounge. I told the group I would head in there to practice some more piano, and by some strike of inspiration, they all joined me inside. I implored Ian to go ahead and play for us, since I'm more comfortable playing piano alone, rather than in front of them.
Ian quickly walked over to the piano and played through a beautiful song, one that he was finding the notes to but we could tell, all the notes were leading somewhere. The second song he played from memory, a Christian song that he liked. That song was absolutely gorgeous. I felt like I was somewhere where all the hurt you ever felt doesn't stay. Where new things are made. That's how that second song he played made me feel.
Hopeful. That's what hope is then haha.
Hope is where new things are made.
Once they left, I had the room to myself. I played and sang through "The Joker and the Queen" at least 7 times. 5 of which I recorded on my phone, to play back to myself later and see how I could improve. But already, I know that my voice is lovely in song.
I don't sell myself short. I know what I got, :P.
Just gotta get this voice to be stronger. Comfortable being louder. Hitting the highs like nada.
The song itself, is gorgeous. Someone who loves you so much that they always want you to win. That they'd willingly lose so you could have it all. But then, for you to want them to win as well. An equal partnership, building each other's house of cards up. I'm nothing but a house of hearts. And if he is too, so it shall be. That we left together.
My face wears my feelings, my truest thoughts, all too well. My suitemates have gotten sooo fucking good at reading my face like the back of their hand.
Whenever the suitemates and I make a wish, Naina hears my list of wishes, and always, I leave the important one out.
"You forgot one, Ngoc. We both know which one it is."
"Haha, right. And I want ----"
That's my secret not-so-secret secret.
But here I was. Taking up all this space. This piano room. Playing piano, blasting my feels, my voice. Like a lion all alone.
And it felt great. I wasn't feeling absolutely great though, but a bit better. A bit more slowed down. More realized.
I just hated myself. So fucking much. Just when things were getting so fucking good. Just when I found my peace, my routine -- I had lost myself to my feelings. I was weak to shit too late to fix.
I am. Lion.
I am. Dragon.
I am. Sad.
It felt like a crawl, back to the elevator. Up to the 6th floor. When I ran into Garima. Into Naina.
"Heard you signed up for the ballroom soiree from Matthew. The 7:30 pm slot with Yvette. Hope you have funnn and that you'll bring back a cookie for meee," Naina yearns cutely for.
"Shit I forgot that was happening tonight. What time is it--" I asked as I answered my own question. It was 7:28 PM.
A part of me didn't want to go. I have so much I haven't done that needs to be done. How could I-- and I wasn't feeling emotionally well at all. I felt like a bad poop. I felt pooped. I just wanted to crawl away and just be super duper productive and forget everything.
But for some reason, I knew that if I did crawl away to be productive. I wouldn't go anywhere.
I would be stuck. Stuck forever glued and coming back full circle to the very things I wanted to hide away from. Stinking work wouldn't lift me up.
I went against my first instinct. Put on my prettiest dress. The green cottage core one that I had once bought on a whim, one that brought to life all the colors I love. Tonight, I would spin in it. My favorite green bracelet. A golden necklace of roses and pink drop earrings.
I didn't know where I was going, the location of the event. And I was going alone because Yvette forgot and couldn't make it. But I was rest assured she was out enjoying some bomb Korean food.
Regardless, I made my way there, feeling like Cinderella. Feeling pretty like Cinderella. Feeling flowy and gown-y like Cinderella. Importantly, I was late to the ball. Quick on my feet, my slippers slapped the tiles beneath me. The moon, a thin, beautiful sliver of a smile in the sky. Promising me nothing and everything at the same time. This connection I have with the moon -- she comforted me tonight. With all of her no-promises. A witness to the unsurety, to this strangely good and terrible day I've had. Reminding me that I still have the rest of the night to live out a dream or two. To spin on the dance floor with strangers in.
I had a beautiful night. The fairy lights overhead, greeting me like little fireflies. I picked the right dress. It had a weight to it, perfect for spinning and feeling painted and beautiful in.
I felt like a painting. I probably looked like one too, but I wouldn't know haha. I had raced out of my room too quickly to admire the person before me.
The person signing me into the event asked if I came with a partner. Or if I knew anyone. I sounded pretty confident when I said I didn't. "But I can't wait to have fun tonight." It was a half-hearted wish. It was a hope that I would. I crossed under the flower arch and pathway of roses towards the dance floor. Everyone had already partnered up. I walked in, eyes wide, admiring the curves and steps of everyone around me. All of the colors and the golden lights gave the evening such a dreamy, romantic atmosphere. I started following the instructor when Matthew singled me out of no where. A walk-glide towards me.
And just like that, the night found me. And Matthew saw me.
I didn't know why I felt like I needed to ask but I did. Everyone was wearing masks so I thought I would have been undeterminable.
"How did you know who I was?" As we practiced through the steps.
With an amused, sarcastic laugh, he answered, "Of course I know who you are Ngoc."
And so Matthew, who was always just a suite neighbor and dinner buddy, was now my first dance partner. Dancing with him makes me feel so confident and sure of myself. An incredible dance lead. The amount of grace he has with his body is magnetic to the eyes. He's like a fairy prince. And everyone else is just meant to watch him glow. Never a dull moment with Matthew. He is after all, a social butterfly through and through. And on the dance floor, he looks ethereal. No longer the normal human I had come to know. A human dressed in t-shirts and khaki shorts and flip flops. A human with human problems and tutoring hours that he constantly worries about. Now, he's all arms and legs moving in curves. Gliding, as if in flight.
My next partner was Shirley who spun me into conversation. Both of us were exchange students. We were way too excited about each other and I loved it. We're both studying in Massachusetts and I can see it. I can see us hanging out again. A very cool, and positive young lady. Gorgeous as well, haha. A quick learner and patient with me los. Our dancing was so wholesome and I did my best, but gosh. I was so awkward and BAD. I tried my best. That's the good thing.
My partner after that was a handsome stranger that I had forgotten the name of. Now I regret it. I just know that he's an amazing dancer. At first as he walked by, I asked if he danced. With a hand up and out, he asked if I'd like to know if he danced or not. "Gosh, I would but I already have a partner, Shirley--". And Shirley interrupted and said for me to go ahead. To try it.
And so with a look to Shirley that I'll be back very soon, I turned to my new partner, who showed me where to put my arm and let me know ahead of time which steps to take. So patient and gentle, soft and smooth. Dressed all in black, he looked like a vision. Like the dark prince everyone wants to know. His voice was composed, gentle, all assurances as I fumbled my way through our dance like some kind of young adult fantasy female protagonist. A little too soon, I let him go, and quickly after, he was Shirley's partner. And together, they looked beautiful. Chemistry full on, haha. I looked on like a lost sheep, before I turned around to finally take in my surroundings after all of that intense waltz learning.
And finally did I have a good look at myself in the glass window behind me.
I looked beautiful. I looked like something I didn't feel. I looked like a movie.
My shoulders back. Face tilted slightly. My eyes, dark orbs. Green dress swirling out around me. Hands, slightly uncomfortable at my sides. A little mysterious. A little sad. But so... so peaceful. An empty field of green and yellow and pink buds and flowers. Someone who likes to smile. So I smiled. At myself, under my mask, before turning away, and greeted Shirley after her dance with Mr. Dark Prince.
All too quickly, someone else tapped me for a dance. His hand held out. No words, just expectation. But ahhh, it was my first dance, so I didn't get the hint. My eyes perplexed. People had to explain to me that I was being asked to dance haha. Finally getting the hint, I put my hand on his arm, while holding the other, before we went all in. My new dance partner was just as graceful. Also very very patient. His voice gentle. Are all male dancers so gentle? So smooth?
I felt fragile in their arms. I felt fragile in my spins and my missteps and my sorries. While at the same time, I felt strong, when spinning out my dress. Strong and fragile. Both, at the same time.
I am both. I am contradiction.
I am a movie that's melting.
Neha, at one point, arrived. Post-gym workout. Looking like a glistening goddess in her bright yellow t-shirt and black running shorts. Sure, she didn't quite match the night's dress code but she walked in like she belonged anyways.
Her entrance felt like home.
In a sea of unfamiliar faces, except for Matthew's, and drowning in my own feelings ever so slightly, Neha walking in was like a hug. Like she's coming to pick me up after a long night of fun. Where I had my way.
"Ngoc, you look so beautiful tonight. Seriously." And I knew she meant it, as she took me in. I mean, who couldn't see it? Pft. I gotta be humble one of these days.
We took a video together. Being all cute under the flower arch. She was convinced that she would come to the second session, but had to return home, shower, and put on her beautiful dancing dress and shoes. So we made our way home in a heart beat. After I grabbed my one very big, Eggslut chocolate chip cookie. Yes. Eggslut. Such a marketing name am I right? Like, who wants to be a slutty egg? Whew.
"Shall we, Ngoc?" She grinned, offering me her arm. Together, we left the dancers. Out into the night. It felt like only us two, and the world. And the moon.
The sliver of hope I had had earlier, as thin as the moon's smile tonight, was realized. Surprised out of thin air and held up to the sky, I was feeling myself again, because in that moment, I had everything I needed.
"I needed this dance tonight. Even when I didn't know it yet. And I needed you to waltz in like that and to walk me home like now, Neha. But I knew that already," I said. My voice projected across the driveway roundabout, the Oculus, and Neha, unable to hold it in, let go of an "awwwwww, Ngocccccc." Nuzzling her head against my shoulder.
NehaaaaaaAAAA GUPTAAAAA.
I couldn't imagine a more fitting way to leave a ballroom soiree, than with my suitemate and friend. Our conversation trailed behind us, voices rising and echoing along the buildings. I felt wanted.
I felt treasured.
Neha would protect me, after all.
I dressed out of my beautiful dress. Almost reluctant to pull it off. Wanting it on longer, but I knew I had things to get back to. Urgently! Yet, I found myself eating my delicious chocolate chip cookie in silence. Nothing but cookie thoughts. Then having enough sugar, a name popped into my head. Someone who needed the rest of this delicious cookie more than I did.
Someone studying hard and doing her midterm.
I knocked on Garima's door. "GarimaaaAAAAA" I called out.
Her door opened slightly.
Her one eye looking back at me.
"Are you an eggslut, Garima?"
"Ummm...."
"Because, I got you one myself," I responded to my own question, grinning and raising the thick brown bag that read "Eggslut" on its cover. Inside, a still-warm cookie awaited. About 40% of the cookie remained haaa.
Perfect chip to cookie ratio which is always chip > cookie. Mind you.
Her face lit up. Cookie she needed. Chocolate she deserved. Hard at studying she had been. While I grabbed my boba drink from the fridge. Knowing all too well that I was no longer eating mindfully today. Today, I felt like downing sugar for my emotional health. Tomorrow, I would get back on track. Today, I'm 75% sugar baby.
Later, Naina and Nicholas arrived back at the suite. Nicholas had felt it too. He had felt how refreshing it was to do something new, other than studying. He had fun dancing and now being good at something he was uncomfortable at first with, haha. Naina clearly had fun dancing. Face flushed, glowing. Hair voluminous, as if from all the twirling. She later told me that had I had not gone dancing at the soiree tonight, she wouldn't have come. A choice that I had made for myself, out of pure duty to protect my emotional wellbeing, had in its way, rippled through our suite. Neha wanted to return for the second round. Egging herself to go as much as she egged on Naina and Nicholas. Naina looked to me to confirm that it was worth going. Nicholas looked to Neha for a bit more convincing before he decided quickly that yes, he was coming. And later, Garima and I would learn and dance to the jive, to an invisible song and beat known only to us. And when the other three returned, Garima and I would bear witness to all the living room dancing, twisting, and stepping. Everyone a flurry of color. Neha's orange dress and silver, sparkly dancing heels. Her movements practiced and confident. Like a one-woman shiny disco ball. Naina's baby blue dress and soft dancing as she led Nicholas across the floor. My "happy girl" cow pajama dress lost in the fray for a tiny bit. Garima, our most esteemed audience.
Gosh. I guess I'll go against my gut a bit more often hm? :P
So our suite of 4 was finally united. All 4 of us after DAYS. Plus Nicholas. Hanging out in our living room. Dancing to music Nicholas had picked. Not my type of music but good enough music to boost our living room atmosphere. If it were me, I would have chosen Love Nwantiti. Anywayzzzhaaaa.
While Nicholas went to change, the four of us talked and randomly danced in the sky garden.
Together, we feel like magic. Like any and all of us could say the wrong things. And we'd each crack each other straight. Laughter and ooos and woahsss. Always. On this 6th floor sky garden. When just two hours ago, I had felt that miserable ride to the 6th floor, wondering if I would be able to be my usual self, laughing often and a little invulnerable, despite the news. So why then am I...
so in love?
I am so in love.
This home of people.
At 3 AM later in the night, I would call my little sister. She would pick up and after summarizing my best everything I had felt today, she reflected back to me what I didn't see.
"Everything bad and unhappy had been out of your control, Ngoc. But everything that had been good and dreamy and worth remembering were decisions you made yourself. It's as if the universe said 'fuck you,' and then you said, 'no, fuck YOU.' The universe fucked you first but you fucked it second." That's Yen for you. Straight to the throat with her no-shit wisdom. Which is why I will be bearing nothing but gifts for my little shit.
Gosh.
A day that had at one point, promised a level of tragedy.
Became much less tragic.
My heart is more resilient than I had thought.
I'm not so much a house of cards. I'm more than that.
I am fragile. Glass, ready to break anytime. By anyone.
But just as ready to put myself back together. Into something new with all this love from the people who care about me.
There was more to today. I promise.
Did I just attempt at summarizing everything that happened from the moment I woke today, to a little before 10 pm? Yes.
I did.
I thank the blood of my ancestors a little and a lot for today. Because, perhaps a part of me, the part of me that's an amalgamation of all my ancestors' past lives. Of everyone who's ever felt as I have. That part knew what to do. That part knew to put on that beautiful dress, heck the work.
Heck the routine. Let fate decide for me how the night will go. Throw in all the faith I had in myself -- that I'd be okay being the only one I truly knew. Cinderella didn't know anyone at the ball either. ;P
Soiree with strangers for a night. Then come home arm in arm with a good friend.
Feeling new. Shiny. Albeit a little frayed. But warm, and reflecting the fiery glow of love from my new family here in Singapore.
May this hug last forever. And withstand any storm.
I am yours.
