Then came the rescue mission. The loud fights in the hostel wing， the long silences and the desperate angry notes. Frustration， anxiety and even love revealing itself in the ugliest possible ways. Then indifference， complacency and resignation. Calm， dispassionate discussions on how we could stay friends. The decision that we should always let the other know when we would be around. That's when I started leaving those yellow post-its on the door. Those yellow post-its which by the time I came back would have your coordinates that I never used. If we had all of them now， they would be telling this tale a lot better than I am now.