Some drinks just stick with you. Not because they taste amazing, but because of who you had them with. I finally went to this restaurant I’d been wanting to try for months. Booked it way in advance, even mentioned I’d bring my own bottle. It was a Macallan 21 I brought back from Macau. Not that I know much about whisky. I picked it for the memory it carried. The first time I had it was with him. Back then we were just kids pretending to be mature. Sipping whisky like we understood it. He said, “Can you taste the depth? My dad says this one's special.” I had no idea what that meant. But I remembered the name. Because he was there. Years passed. He messaged me recently, said he hadn’t seen me around much. Said he brought me up with an old friend, asked if I was still in Malaysia. I said yeah. And somehow that turned into dinner tonight. The food was great, especially the chili clam. At one point, he brought up some silly thing we did years ago. I laughed. But then I noticed, the lady sitting next to him, wasn't laughing. She didn't even look up. A few minutes later, he handed me a red envelope. That’s when I realized the real reason for this dinner. “We’re getting married next month. Hope you can come, bring Cha XX too.” It didn’t really hurt. But in that moment, I got it. He wasn’t here to look back. He was just... passing through. And I wasn’t holding on. I just wanted to see what became of the boy I once knew. The whisky still had that burn, but somehow it went down smoother this time. Maybe I’ve grown up too. 13/07/25