Etch and Burn


So I heard you’ve been acting like a douche-bag lately. I wouldn’t know for sure, since you’re so caught up in your new world and have no more time for me.

But that’s okay. I still hold on to the idea of your awesomeness when I lived my life near yours. Good times, they were.

I remember the time I first saw you. Oh, how adorable you were in your silence and mystery. You then eventually start to talk and share of your geekiness and keep on going even though people kept teasing you for it. I love your character.

I remember our conversations about anything under the sun. I loved learning new things from you. I loved the feeling of allowing you to learn new things from me.

I remember our match together. Boy, did you suck at playing the sport. I wasn’t good at it either, but that proved to be an unforgettable match when we tag-teamed and trash-talked the opposite team with our sarcastic and self-proclaimed witty remarks. It became more unforgettable when you told me that you just loved your teammate.

I remember that time when I mustered the guts to sit beside you, take off your hat, stroke your hair and talk to you sans all the inhibitions. It was very free and easy, very liberating. The awareness of one’s ability to reciprocate is one of the most blissful things in this world. That was done regardless of what might have been, regardless of how distant and cold things are now. I loved that moment.

I most especially remember the time when we were talking about Japan and the probable causes that led to its culture’s relentless persistence for perfection. It was in that moment that, even though we were at a party, I felt like we were the only people in the room. You’re one of the few people in this circle who can manage to impart meaningful insights on the gripping issues of this world.

I acknowledge that time in the past and I am thankful for it. It is validation that people like you exist in this world. I almost came to the conclusion that I might have loved you. But it’s all starkly clear: it’s so easy to fall in love in the idea of you in that moment in time. In that space, in that moment, in that chapter.

Thank you for cutting the endless ribbon of numbness. Now I know I feel.

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