People.

fourteen

As I gaze at the vibrant hues painting the sky, a bittersweet feeling washes over me. Saying goodbye to Jane just moments ago was harder than I had thought. Our paths are diverging, leading us to separate cities and lives. Although we promised to stay in touch, the reality of the distance settles in, and I know it will be months before we can reunite.

Turning my attention away from the wistful thoughts, I take a look in the books I had bought earlier.  Feeling a sense of excitement, I decide to capture the essence of this moment and share it on Instagram. I open the app and select the pictures I had taken of the breathtaking sunset.  Normally, I would have shared these pictures directly with Maxwell as well. But today, something feels different. Maxwell has been preoccupied lately, consumed by his own responsibilities and endeavors. Our conversations have become infrequent, and it seems as though the distance between us extends beyond mere physical miles.

Instead of sending the photos to Maxwell individually, I opt to share them in a group chat with my friends: Rose, Leo, and Michelle. Even though we are all caught up in our own bustling lives, this group chat still serves as a lifeline, connecting us in the vast expanse of our individual journeys.

As I compose the message, I type a heartfelt caption alongside the pictures, expressing the awe-inspiring beauty that I had just witnessed. I hit send, and the messages fly off into the digital realm, crossing invisible boundaries and reaching my friends.

As the sun dips below the horizon, leaving behind a tapestry of twilight, I tuck my phone away and take a deep breath. I know that despite the temporary goodbyes, the threads that bind us together remain unbroken.

***
People sometimes are here just for a season. They are either a painful lesson or a blessing, some maybe both. However, I believe that each person we meet is a sort of lesson.

Dutsani, who I call Her, changed me without even knowing. She was an exchange student at our school. She came into our classroom with the teacher and I felt that this time would be different, this time I would actually break my comfort zone. So I did. I came by, when Leo was talking to her, I was so nervous, but I managed to say at least something. Since then, me and Dutsani started talking almost every day at the corridor, in class, we even went shopping together, teaching each other's native languages to one another.

Despite the fact that at that time I have known her for a few months, when she had to fly back home in June, I struggled inside so fluffing much. She came to say bye, I hugged her, and then we had a normal, nice time, cause the whole class was singing "happy birthday" to Milo, and we were taking some pictures. When I came home, I burst into tears. I was crying like a baby, knowing that I will not see her for a long time, she's in the opposite part of the globe now.

I sobbed for quite a long time, before my mom managed to calm me down. No matter, how much she wanted, she couldn't tell me anything, cause nothing would change me and my friend being in such a distance.

I just wish Dutsani were here.

Before her arrival, my comfort zone was a self-imposed prison. I would say a timid hello, find solace in isolating myself, and avoid making eye contact. But Dutsani shattered those barriers. Through her warmth, openness, and genuine friendship, she showed me that I had the capacity to connect with another human being, to make new friendships, and to, actually, talk.

Maxwell taught me self-love, but in a different way that I assumed. But first, he taught me courage.

Maxwell, an unexpected catalyst in my journey of self-discovery, taught me valuable lessons about self-love and the importance of courage. Before him, my comfort zone dictated that I should only engage with boys I was already familiar with, like Leo and Jacob. I believed that taking the first step or showing too much affection would be perceived as annoying or unwelcome. But Maxwell shattered those self-imposed restrictions, teaching me to embrace courage in all aspects of my life.

The transformation within me was undeniable. With Maxwell, I mustered the bravery to invite him to hang out, to express my genuine affection by saying "I like you," and to confess my feelings openly. These acts of vulnerability were milestones in my growth, as I realized that I could navigate conversations with boys and it wasn't the end of the world . The walls of my comfort zone crumbled, replaced by a newfound sense of empowerment. Through our interactions, I saw that that I deserved to take up space and be heard. I felt comfortable being my authentic self, embracing my voice and expressing my thoughts without reservation.

Maxwell was a lesson of self-respect. Through this situation, God taught me to remember that at the right timing it will happen. It's not my thing to control stuff.

***
I like sitting at a cafe by myself to study. I have my headphones on, and while I pack my bag, here comes this one song. Even though it's not a love composition, in fact, it's far from being one, I see Maxwell's smile, I can almost hear his laughter echoing in my mind.

The city streets, once familiar pathways, now carry the weight of shared moments and memories with him. Every corner turned seems to call back our time together. The park bench, in the park reminds me of our only hangout, where we sat. The playground nearby, scattered with fallen leaves, is an ode to the laughter and joy.

If you go uphill, passing the quaint, white, wooden church, a road unfolds - the same road we once walked down together, hand in hand, towards the bus stop that held a special significance. Each step I take is accompanied by a pang of longing, a bittersweet reminder of the connection we once shared.

The journey always becomes more challenging as I follow a path lined with cherry blossom trees. Their delicate beauty stirs a mix of emotions within me—admiration, but also a touch of pain, for these trees hold a place in my heart that is intertwined with memories. It is for this reason that I often choose a bus stop nearer to the center of town, to avoid the heartache that accompanies those blossoms, even when their leaves are already dry and yellow-orange. However, even as I navigate a different route, I cannot help but notice this another park along the way. Immediately, my thoughts drift back to Maxwell, and his presence fills my mind once more. The reminders of him used to bring a warmth to my heart, they also csuse a sense of longing and yearning for what once was.

As I continue on my path, surrounded by the echoes of our shared experiences, I take a deep breath and carry Maxwell with me in my heart. His presence, even in memories, serves as a reminder of what I have experienced. I'm just not ready to let it go, I have to let myself hurt for a bit.

And as the café fades into the background, I step out into the city, ready to face the world. I stop by the bigger church on the other side of the road. The doors are always open, it starts raining gently, so I come in; today even the cleaning lady is not here. I was there only a few times, cause normally I attend a church closer to my home, but sometimes, while being in the city, I feel the need to go for a bit of comfort. I kneel down and cry out to my Heavenly Father. There's been a lot happening recently and I can't handle it on my own. I stay inside for good fifteen minutes, I feel better. As I go through the streets, I have more strength. Let it pray, let it go. Things take time.

Love, in all its forms, leaves an indelible mark on our hearts. Maxwell is mine. I pray that I'd be free from this feelings, but I know that nothing we get is harder than what we can take.