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Sometimes it’s not about trying to fix something that you know is broken, that you know is gone. Maybe this time it’s about starting all over again and creating something new and better.

Manila

Black and white.

It’s so ironic how this place has the comfiest bed and yet the creepiest hallway.

She always looks deep into the sky and tells her self that’s the only connection she can have with him, the closest she could get to him.

Because maybe, just maybe, he’s on the other side, looking at it too.

Remember that rush you felt inside when your hands touched for the first time, the time he kissed you on the cheek before he left for his class, the time he was with his friends, you walked passed by each other on the hallway, and then he whispered directly to your ear the words “I love you,” the time he told you you’re beautiful even when you thought you were looking your worst because of the rough and busy day you had, the time he saw an ice cream vendor walking by, immediately left to buy one, and came back with your favorite flavor?

It was always the little things the mattered the most to you. It was always the simple joys of being together. It was always him.

It should be a privilege, an amazing opportunity to be here, to be sitting on the grass and wondering how beautiful this place is, the history told by each building, the story of every person walking around its campus. I feel bad. For not feeling anything. I want to be comfortable here, to finally be myself, to love this moment. It just feels like there’s something missing.

She’s the kind of girl who would walk into a room and won’t even get noticed by anyone. The kind that nods and smiles when someone says hi to try to be friendly. She’s the kind of girl who would just sit there, alone, and won’t even mind.

Always look closely. You did not noticed that while she was sitting there all alone, she was pretending to play the guitar by strumming the air under her desk, following the music she hears inside her head, slightly humming the song that no one will ever hear so that she could avoid someone saying “what are you doing?”

She’s the kind of girl who has unique views in life. The kind that sees things differently, appreciates every little thing, enjoying the simplest joys.

Always listen closely. Someone once asked her what she thought of this new movie that came out after its book became so popular. She answered very deep, tried talking about her opinions and views, explained how she appreciate this little part of the story that only her could possibly notice, talk about how the book was better with all the feelings written in one novel. But then again, no one understood.

And then he sat next to her at science class, asked her if she ever wondered how the universe really looked like, and talked about how beautiful Earth is with all its wonders. And as she sat there, listening to him, she thought, "Finally."

Sepanx

I used to walk into my school’s gate, say hi to the friendliest guy around, the security guard, walk up stairs, see some of my friends sitting on the stairs, they’d hug me and say good morning, go to my classroom, see again some of my friends that will also hug me and say good morning, sit with my very best friends wherever they are, talk, and just feel comfortable. That’s always the highlight of the morning. The best time of the day where I just feel like I’m home.

And now, I walk into my school’s gate, walk to my building, go up the stairs to the fourth floor, walk into a room full of strangers and new faces. And the only one greeting me good morning will be the professor.

Everything’s new.
Everything’s different.
Everything’s not home.

Today’s afternoon was consisted of bringing Piper, my 5-year-old cousin from New Jersey, to here swimming lessons and me trying to OOTD (haha!)

In twenty years from now

Twenty years from now, I don’t want us to be just parts of our past, parts of our high school lives.

Twenty years from now, I want us to be a part of our present lives and our future.

Twenty years from now, I don’t want us to be the ones who we tell someone else about and call each other “my old friend from high school” or say “I haven’t talked to him/her in years.”

Clingy as it sounds, I want us to be the kind of friendship that’ll last forever.