Graduation Special

"Do you miss them?" 

A year has passed since the day they graduated and parted ways. Them venturing new heights, finding new interests, meeting other people -- a journey of finding oneself. She was not very good at voicing out what she felt. The act of doing so was difficult for her but it seems to be the best way of relieving herself of the gnawing ache. "I miss them... I really do." It felt good saying it.

"Do you miss... him?"

And before she could stop herself, with having felt such elation, she replied, "More than I ever thought I would." 

Guidance Interviews

I was asked during my yearly guidance interview: Why do you not tell someone how you feel?

What I had in mind was: There are just some people who tell you to talk, and once you do and get the hang of it, eventually grow tired of listening and ignore you and then switch to other people who can provide them with something 'better'. I wouldn't want to find myself in that position. It's like they tell you they got a hold of you, you trust that they wouldn't let go but they eventually do because they got 'tired' and not because they can't hold on anymore. There's a difference. The latter says they can't, the former just drops you.

What I said: I just don't feel like talking. I wouldn't want to trouble them.

Bewitched

"Tell me about her."

"Why?"

"Please?"

He knew I wouldn't leave until he told me. He bowed his head in resignation and sighed. "... if you insist..."

He stood and walked to the window, his back towards me. "She was like the summer sun. Her laughter like the cool rippling pools of an oasis in the desert. Her lips were like cherries in spring. Her cheeks a rosy pink like of a newborn. And her eyes..." My breath got caught in my throat as he looked at me, memories of 'her' danced in his eyes. He was drifting away.

"Wh-Why didn't it work out?" I asked, breaking the trance.

"Such is with things that are not meant to be, I believe. But I loved her, that's all I know, and I was content with just that."