"Don't worry. You may think you'll never get over it. But you also thought it would last forever."

I just finished Eleanor and Park yesterday and what can I say. Too often we read books with characters much older than us and it makes us feel so grown up but it was nice to feel 17. I'm getting withdrawal symptoms not because it was the "best thing I've ever read" but more of like because the ending was more unexpected than expected and because it really made me realise that some things really need to be fought for and they don't come easy. And how insecurity works at it's worst/best. It was so though provoking that I've been thinking about it since yesterday night but I guess it's the kind of story to leave you feeling a little fuzzy inside.

Promos coming but not very sure what I'm supposed to feel about it. I don't even feel like lifting a finger to revise my work. Too many things I'm not sure of.

I looked forward to Mondays because I could see you. You'd never forget your tie but you always forget your collar pin and you'd come up with a million little excuses to defend yourself. Tuesdays and Thursdays were meant for going home together late after trainings and getting distracted about how nice you smell after you come out from the shower. Wednesdays were the only time we could escape the world and take long bus rides from Harbourfront to home and doing anything we wanted and walking aimlessly until we felt it was right to head home. It was falling asleep and getting shaken awake and laughing as we clambered down from the upper deck feeling groggy and all. The best part was going to places you wanted to go and hiding somewhere when rain starts to fall. We'd lie on our backs on our beds, separated by so much distance but still feeling close when I hear your voice through the phone and I'd stare at my feet against the wall and tell you how I was trying to vertically scale a wall. There was the sharing of songs and racing to see who could get out of the shower at record speed and just laughing and laughing and laughing and I'd never tire of seeing you laugh because it's so real and it's all you.

But now there's no more coming to school together and waiting for time to pass because what's the use when I don't even get to see you. We meet more teachers than we meet each other and now I sit by my phone sometimes and think if I should even text you. Our time is meant for everyone else but not ourselves and things just clash like two clouds colliding and creating a sound so loud it hurts everywhere to know that as much as you say otherwise, sometimes you're just not there. Life is still the same and bad days still come haunting, but now I pretty much think again in case you don't have the time for my nonsense. Perhaps I only vaguely remember how you smell like on a good day or on a bad day with the wrong clothes. I think it's conflicting how I want time to pass quickly so that I can be with you all the time sooner, but at the same time I want to savour every single moment because they're just as fleeting as you now.

I guess I'm still doing okay.

me.

"Don't worry. You may think you'll never get over it. But you also thought it would last forever."

I just finished Eleanor and Park yesterday and what can I say. Too often we read books with characters much older than us and it makes us feel so grown up but it was nice to feel 17. I'm getting withdrawal symptoms not because it was the "best thing I've ever read" but more of like because the ending was more unexpected than expected and because it really made me realise that some things really need to be fought for and they don't come easy. And how insecurity works at it's worst/best. It was so though provoking that I've been thinking about it since yesterday night but I guess it's the kind of story to leave you feeling a little fuzzy inside.

Promos coming but not very sure what I'm supposed to feel about it. I don't even feel like lifting a finger to revise my work. Too many things I'm not sure of.

I looked forward to Mondays because I could see you. You'd never forget your tie but you always forget your collar pin and you'd come up with a million little excuses to defend yourself. Tuesdays and Thursdays were meant for going home together late after trainings and getting distracted about how nice you smell after you come out from the shower. Wednesdays were the only time we could escape the world and take long bus rides from Harbourfront to home and doing anything we wanted and walking aimlessly until we felt it was right to head home. It was falling asleep and getting shaken awake and laughing as we clambered down from the upper deck feeling groggy and all. The best part was going to places you wanted to go and hiding somewhere when rain starts to fall. We'd lie on our backs on our beds, separated by so much distance but still feeling close when I hear your voice through the phone and I'd stare at my feet against the wall and tell you how I was trying to vertically scale a wall. There was the sharing of songs and racing to see who could get out of the shower at record speed and just laughing and laughing and laughing and I'd never tire of seeing you laugh because it's so real and it's all you.

But now there's no more coming to school together and waiting for time to pass because what's the use when I don't even get to see you. We meet more teachers than we meet each other and now I sit by my phone sometimes and think if I should even text you. Our time is meant for everyone else but not ourselves and things just clash like two clouds colliding and creating a sound so loud it hurts everywhere to know that as much as you say otherwise, sometimes you're just not there. Life is still the same and bad days still come haunting, but now I pretty much think again in case you don't have the time for my nonsense. Perhaps I only vaguely remember how you smell like on a good day or on a bad day with the wrong clothes. I think it's conflicting how I want time to pass quickly so that I can be with you all the time sooner, but at the same time I want to savour every single moment because they're just as fleeting as you now.

I guess I'm still doing okay.

me.