Mga Hangin At Bulong

I have written lots of things about him.
Songs. Stories. Poems. Anything.
I want him to realize that I exist. That I am here. Sitting, dreaming, waiting and writting about him- about us. When I go to school, I imagine him wearing that big smile while running towards me with arms wide open. As if welcoming me. At home, I hear his laugh through the walls that surround me. When I sit on the swing in our backyard, I fell his arms around me.

But the thing is, I don't know when he will come back.

I was told that "he" is never coming back. I was even told that maybe I need to check a psychologist for this. But, I don't. I don't need anyone. I know he's here. I can feel it. I can feel him. I know that he's here. Somewhere. He told me to wait for five years. He told me that he will find me.

Four years have passed. If this year passes without me seeing him, I would go around the world to find him.