Once there was a boy who loved and adored me. Who made me laugh effortlessly, who combed my hair and painted my toenails and told me he would love me forever. He would cook for me, do things for me and follow me to the ends of the earth. He taught me that sweet coco biscuits and cheese go together, and that laughter is the language of the soul.
When we were younger, we would do stuff together during the summer – jog, shoot hoops, swim, share a custard cake while we watch the Bulls clobber the Supersonics. And when it’s time to go, he would always walk me home.
I would tell him my dreams and what I want in life and he would listen closely – absorbing every detail. We could go on talking for hours, or a whole day without getting tired or bored of each other. We argued about ridiculous things but we never fought. Most of the times, we would just laze on the couch and devour chocolates as we listen to Britney Spears.
All I can remember was his endless chortle and the silly things he would do to make me laugh. He was happiness – all of him.
And then, he had to leave.
“The scariest thing about distance is that you don’t know whether they’ll miss you or forget you.” ― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook