She was wide awake in a dream she didn’t wish to end. Everything was peaceful in the way he restrains his deep voice ever so self-consciously. And yet so soothing to my ears…she was not in any position to fall in love again but in this hazy dream, she found refuge in a man connected only by a phone and voice. She found refuge in him. At this very moment.

This was not the boy she met years ago. That boy had all the talent of the writer but was unaware of his actions and his self, leading to all sorts of trouble she can only imagine. He had kept her around because she was an object of fantasy, and she knew then she was not getting in deep his life because of the box she is put in. But now, he has changed…for the better. He was on his way to becoming man, not a boy. He had a certain touch of magic with his words, mixed with an innocent brashness of a person trying to be as honest as he can. He demanded purity of himself. She thought he couldn’t get any more smartass than he is now. He was definitely clever, but in the end, what mattered was his maturity.

Like him, she was not the same girl he met years ago. She bit her lip, repressing all the thoughts of her past self. It frustrates her, somewhat, that she has painted such a dark, melancholic shadow of herself in the past years that she cannot even face it squarely. No matter, this was a different story…she shook her head in disagreement to her own self.

In the past she was a bundle of everything she despises now: childish, irresponsibly open, clouded emotional judgment and shallow to a point…Cut yourself some slack. You were a kid. She sighed and remembered that her childhood wasn’t the best one out there, nor was she sharp enough to have handled things the way she should. She was a blissful child playing with her castles in the air. That was why she found herself falling down hard on the ground. And from the fall, anyone can see that she has changed…for the better. She was on her way to believing in herself as a woman with a mind of her own. Her passion was nothing like her colleagues, her openness now within limits but nevertheless transforming her to an adventurer for her sympathies. She understood the importance of the social human and the reflecting human. She was still tactless out of habit, but in the end, what matters is the goodness of her words and intentions.

They were both oddities of the human nature, sticking out like sore thumbs in their own individuality. The world is a big place, ironically filled with the same individualistic people scattered around, but to encounter one yourself is a pleasing sight to see—and to get involved in. Even if they lived a thousand miles away from you. Even if they live in their own worlds.

When she stepped in his world, there was a certain pleasing sense of resonance. When he let her in, there was a sudden warmth he did not expect to feel. In two different worlds, they felt a connection.

But in reality, they were a thousand miles away, laying in their beds. All they need are hugs, time and things to work out.

In reality, she cannot touch him.

In reality, he cannot touch her.

Their minds both wander on a thought they wished was idle. Yet every time they shoved it away, it came back, persisting, haunting.

“Of course not. Stop assuming.”

“She probably doesn’t think of us that way.”

In the silence that hands, they both knew if they saw each other at this very second, they would kiss each other. Cautiously, tentatively, slowly…his hands would travel to her back while hers would wrap around his neck, making the kiss go deeper—

But in reality, they would be too hesitant to do anything other than to hug.


Have faith. His baritone voice muttered.

Have faith. Her hoarse voice whispered.

They imagined holding hands and facing the world head on.

But in reality, they would go their separate ways, only to meet much later in life.

And then…

Maybe then…

They both may just believe.


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