"Journal of the Moon"
The leaves are blowing hard until it stops, because they have been enveloped in a thin sheet of ice. The branches also accumulate a blanket of white snow. That is, when the snow starts to fall down. Sheets and clumps of fresh snow start to cover the pavements, the lawns, and blankets over the trees and roofs. People start layering up on clothing, three pieces at least. And a thick coat is always a must whenever you go outside because the freezing temperature will not give you mercy. The brutal drop of temperature calls for a warm shelter. Some animals go under animated suspension and hibernation just to pass the cruelty of the cold...
I was just staring outside. I'm inside my room, wrapped around my thick and warm blanket. I am actually very liking this cold right now. I am sitting in my small bay window seat, wearing a thick pair of pink sweater and sweatpants. I also put on thick cute socks with cute prints to keep my feet very warm, as the winter cold can sometimes be so harsh. Looking out the window with a warm cup of hot chocolate in my palms to contrast my snow-frosted windows. And albeit wearing a cute outfit, my face was a total disaster. I messed up my hair a little, too, so people who pass by won't be able to see me in my current state. Just a precaution, since I don't want them to think I'm a crazy neighbor. Though they may view me as a ghost in my current state. I look absolutely horrible.
My eyes are very red. They're bloodshot. The hot chocolate wasn't really just to contrast the snow, but a quick solution to calm myself because I cried hard all night yesterday. I've been sitting in this window for a few hours now, looking at the cold and frosted views outside. My eyes are still very swollen so I grabbed a beanie to try and cover it. I've been crying. Grieving. But I knew that today, I had to get up and gather myself. I have to go. It's time.
I met him in college. It was just one of those normal and casual friendships you develop every time the school year starts. It wasn't special. It wasn't anything big. He was smart, one of the top students unlike me, an average. But he was always generous to his friends, and when I became one of them, he didn't hesitate to teach me and guide me through the things I didn't know. I was always grateful for all of the help he's given me. But he was such a friendly guy, always surrounded by people, that we never really got the chance to be closer.
I always felt like he was so near me, but so out of reach at the same time. He has a special aura surrounding him. He's very positive and approachable. Maybe that's why? Wait, wait... oh, I remember. It's his smile! It's his warm, gorgeous, killer smile. And for the several times that he's come to me to help me, that smile was always a distraction. It was like a spell. His smile was the first thing I fell for. His smile was honest, it reflects who he is and what he was feeling at any moment.
For a long time, we were never alone. We were always surrounded by his friends, 'cuz he has tons of them. And so, my feelings grew silently at the corner. I just always stare at him in class, look at him every time I get the chance, feel in awe. When I look at him, it just feels very strange. We were never alone together, but it always felt like I knew him better than anyone else in class. Whenever our eyes meet, I play it cool and smile. He just smiles back. But something about his smile was strange, too. Sometimes I think that maybe we felt the same way, but there was no way to be sure. Maybe I'm just misinterpreting things.
When I started noticing that weird feeling of knowing him, I started feeling another thing, too. Déjà vu. Everything else that we do after that always felt like déjà vu. From that point on, whenever he calls my name or I call his, whenever he touches my hand or my arms, whenever he talks to me, whenever he notices my struggling, absolutely everything was like it has happened before. And it hasn't. What's more, the more mysterious my feeling got, the deeper it became. Every day I look at him, my feelings seem to dig deeper and deeper.
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Seasons (Four Shots)
Short StoryWith one season comes one story of love, pain, sacrifices, trust, and romance. Here are four shots, four stories, four lives, four anecdotes for the four seasons of weather: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter.