He gave me a CD.

Although I know full well that he was broke, and had insisted that he burned me a copy instead.

But being the usual stubborn him, he conveniently bought a new piece and presented it to me on Monday, like he promised.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I don't have additional speakers attached to my PC, so the volume's really soft and I have to strain my ears each time I listen to any audio CD that he gives me. I also could not bring myself to tell him that I have never owned a discman, nor a CD player.

And after all that he has done, deep inside of me, I know that it's really not a big deal, he's merely trying his best to be a good friend, and doing what he thinks may help me.

And sometimes, sometimes, during the rare times when I'm lucid and my head rules over my heart, I get the nagging feeling at the back of my mind that it's better things were like this between us after all -- pseudo-close friends, nothing more.

Because if things were different, I know I would always be the caregiver in the relationship. Always. And maybe, that's just not the best thing for me.