From Me, To You

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chapter 0 

December 5, 2022

Something has been bugging me for some time now and today just confirmed my suspicion. I will admit, he is attractive, he's charismatic, charming, and kind but the problem is, I do not talk to this guy. Heck, I do not really interact with this guy and yet... I'm starting to like him. I thought it would be just simple attraction or infatuation but no.

I really do have a crush on this guy.

And I confirmed it because I sat in front of him today due to an event. How crazy is that? That a guy I barely know, heck the memory I have of him isn't the most pleasant one but nonetheless. I like a guy who I never had a conversation with, never interacted with him, on a completely different level and league from me yet here we are, my heart racing, my head spinning, my mind blanking, and my body paralyzed, shaken, and adrenaline-filled. It's painstakingly difficult not to freak out as I am in front of you, so I avoided your gaze every time ours were in the same direction but stole glances whenever I'm facing your side or the back of your head.

I don't know what it is about you but I have never felt this way before. And I don't know whether I should be excited or terrified. Terrified of what may come, what may happen, and what may be the outcome and how it will affect me and my cowardly heart.

Coincidentally, this is one of the rarest moments I felt confident in myself, brave enough to take selfies I couldn't bring myself to do before. As if being in your presence gives me a whirlwind of emotions—newfound confidence being one of them.

I don't really know what is with you but let us see. I will let myself get dragged along by the waves of fate and life and see where this foolish behavior takes me. Will it be the first or just tear it into pieces?

Yours,
Ephemeral

I sighed, closing my box. It's still a handful trying to process what I had just written, what I had just admitted—well, to myself, at least. It's been a chaotic few weeks and having a crush is definitely not on my bingo card this year.

It was supposed to be a joke and a bit for the shits and giggles but now, I don't think it's a joke anymore.

I put the box back in its rightful place, where no one can know, no one can see, and no one can read the letters I have been writing. Only I know where it is, for this box contains the—in my opinion—the depths of my identity. The feelings, thoughts, opinions, and emotions I couldn't unleash, what I will not bring out into the world.

If people's most prized possessions may be the fanciest materialistic things like clothes, bags, shoes, cars, heck, even money, well, this box is mine. I don't know what I will do if someone found and read them.

"Cleo? Dinner's ready!" I hurried cleaning up my desk as I scurried out of my room into the dining area where my family is slowly piling in for supper.

I am sat down beside my mom, who is putting rice on everyone's plate. It is a normal sight for us, with unsuspecting inner turmoil coming from somebody in the family: me.

It had been a hard couple of weeks having converted from homeschool to a private school, the adjustments and the impacts it had on me wasn't so merciful to me. I didn't know anybody aside from the friends that I had kept in touch over the years I was homeschooled and some other kids who converted alongside me. To say the least, my kickstart to this school year has been one-of-a-kind, one to remember and engraved into my mind.

Dinner was quiet. No one was saying anything, only the noises coming from the clanking of utensils and plates and the occasional bleeding sounds from the shorts my niece was watching. It isn't exactly weird or unusual, sure, for other people, but for us? It's a normal thing.