“If it is the last thing you do,

Don’t give up on you—"

I lifted my head to clearly see the figure approaching me from my peripherals. He is smiling so
wide and so annoyingly nice that everything rumbling inside my head collapsed and slide away.
On his faded jeans and dirty converse, running in my direction motioning the earphones I had in
both my ears—so I removed it and put it on my lap. A few seconds later, he is sitting beside me
catching his breath.
“Did I make you wait?” He was wiping his sweats and wet hair, as I look on my wristwatch for
the time. I’ve been sitting here on the school bench since 4:30, my watch says it is already 5:46
in the afternoon, which explains the greyish blue sky with a mix of sunset palette.
I tilted my head to stare at his deep eyes, “not really, hmm…” I pierced my lips. “Actually, I love
waiting here alone.”
He nodded and tried to peak at my phone screen, “what’s playing?” I immediately hide my
phone. I was listening to the voice message he had sent me last night, covering gonna be okay.
Just like yesterday, today wasn’t a nice day as well. I guess most of my days aren’t nice.
“Nothing.” I dismissed.

As we walk side by side, slowly, I asked him—more like I opened a conversation not because
the silence is awkward, I loved sharing silence with this person. But because, while I am
comfortable with our connection in silence, I also adore conversating with him. “Isn’t nice
having someone to walk with?” Though we’ve been walking together since 2 nd grade, though
during those times still with our moms to hold our hands and lunchboxes.
“How’s the class?” He intentionally asks, not trying to dodge my question, rather digs deeper
into the root cause of that kind of conversation starter when in fact we’ve been walking past
these stores for most of our lives.
I laughed. It was a silly reaction and answer, but I just love these things. The walk. The
streetlights. The pedestrian lane. The vehicles. The passerby. This whole neighborhood. While I
felt alone, seeing all of this makes me feel like there is a life I am living along with these people
who are also busy trying to work out their own journey alive.
He put his arms around my shoulder to pull me closer to his side, “still having a hard time coping
up?”
As I decided to respond, we are already in the playground near their house. I hugged him. Then I
cried. I cried so bad. So hard that I can no longer hear his heartbeat because it is just my sobs and
snorts that are audible in the whole area. I felt his hand at the top of my head, brushing my hair.
So, I cried even harder.

“You’ll be safe here.”