We sat outside, on the balcony where we could see cars and motorcycles passing along Jalan Djuanda. Michael Buble was playing on the stereo and a waiter with his brown apron took our orders.

I ordered opera cake and she took mushroom pie. Two good friends, talking and ranting and mocking. About jobs, schools, boys, girls, friends, brother... Subjects we could not be tired of. Wait, we should not be tired of.

Laughed at our selves. Laughed at other's naivety. Laughed at prides and broken expectations.

I love challenge and she demands attention. I cross every line just to know how it feels. And she longs for passion, primal as it seems.

We broke others' hearts and got our hearts broken. We cried yesterday and laughed it off on the next day. When we are young and invincible, it feels like we could live forever. So why not enjoy it, before youth runs out like the last bite of opera cake.