I remembered, there he was, the man of my dreams. He, together with another newbie (a girl), played a magical piece entitled “A whole new world”.

For an unknown reason, I was so touched and moved into tears. But of course I wiped it out immediately. Our common friend, who’s sitting beside me, might tease me again and the things she will be going to say will only make me like you more.

I wasn't very good in starting conversations but I really like talking to you. But sometimes I have this feeling that you’re getting tired of my senseless rants, my weird thoughts and other shit. I don’t know. Sometimes it seems that you’re just trying not to hurt me and you’re just being forced by your conscience to talk to me.

You’re a very good person. For someone who’s studying at *bleep bleep* you’re unbelievably nice. You’re the most talented person that I ever knew. You’re highly intellectual and I really look up to you.

*Sigh*. I think about you most of the time. I am physically present but mentally absent at times; my body is sitting in that winter-weathered classroom but in my mind I am sitting next to you in the most romantic place I could think of (Scary. Don’t you think?).

I’m not perfect and I will never be. I might probably be the weirdest friend that you have. But I want you to know that this imperfect, weird woman will always try her best to help you in whatever way she can simply because she loves you so much (but nah ah, not in a romantic way *in denial*). It hurts her to know that something is bothering you, hurting you, making you feel sad and down. She wanted to take care of you but then she realized that you’re strong enough to take good care of yourself so she just accepted defeat. But I hope you see that she didn't walk away from you; she’s still behind your back, applauding to all of your success, weeping to your mishaps.

So there he was, the man of my dreams. I was on a sidewalk; I watched him as he drove away, hoping that our paths will cross again someday. But for now, I have to put my focus on that parchment manuscript waving at me; oh my! I can hear it say, “come and get me, baby!”