Who are you? Why am I with you? Why is everything this confusing?
Chapter One – The Past
Do miracles happen if you truly want something? Should a person live with the same dream forever? If I love you enough, will you ever be mine?
Four years ago, when I was only fifteen…
Everything felt like it was crashing down on me: the walls, the people, the school. I constantly felt like crying—well, I already was. The thing I hated most about myself, yet also loved the most: crying. I've always been emotional, since I was a child. I tried to get rid of it, but it was impossible; all I could do was learn to live with it.
My hair was pitch black. The day I first got it cut in layers, it felt like somehow I already knew I would never change. As dark as a lion's mane… A face full of freckles, tall, narrow eyes. But the most important part: emotional and quick-tempered—that was me. I was just beginning my life, really. I never thought I'd meet him at that age. He slipped into my life out of nowhere, without warning.
But before I tell you what happened, I should tell you how we met.
I was a typical hardworking student. I was on the metro with my friends.
He told me, "There's a couple fighting behind you, it's really funny, you have to look."
I just said, "Forget it."
When we reached the stop and I got off, someone called after me. He asked if I recognized him. I said no. Turns out he was the boy from the arguing couple.
Then he said his own name, my name, and even my nickname. I was shocked.
That's when it hit me.
"Oh, shit…" I muttered inside.
That's how we met.
We started hanging out all the time. We laughed endlessly together. Eventually, I fell madly in love with him. But he had a girlfriend, and it was impossible. I wanted the feeling inside me to stop, to fade… so I wanted to be rejected. I called him.
"I wish you were mine," I said.
I expected him to scold me, maybe even snap at me.
But he stopped.
Looked at me…
and kissed me.
It was the most unreal thing I had ever felt in my life.
Did he love me? Would he break up with her? Would he be mine?
No.
None of it happened.
Our paths split, and I knew I would never be able to forget him.
Four Years Later – Present Day
Second year of university.
Too many boys had come and gone in my life. Eventually, I began to see all of them as nothing but idiots.
I was walking toward the nearest campus exit because I was starving. My eyes caught a car passing by. I'd never seen it before, yet it felt familiar. Since I used to be obsessed with cars, I told myself, "I must've seen it somewhere."
It was late; I needed to head back to the dorms. The car drove away. I kept walking.
Then the car stopped.
Someone started running toward me. I didn't understand what was happening.
But he wasn't running to me—he ran past me.
Apparently, a man behind me had been following me—or something like that. I didn't really know. My knees went weak. I hadn't even seen his face.
I wanted to get away.
But I couldn't walk.
Everything had happened too fast.
Then he came to me.
"Are you okay?"
"Sorry?"
"I'm asking if you're okay. Did he touch you?"
"No, no—he didn't… I didn't even notice him. Thank you, I really—"
"Alright, don't push yourself."
That's when I saw his face.
So familiar. Too familiar.
I don't even know how to describe it.
He looked into my eyes.
"I can't stand seeing you like this," he said.
But he said it as if he only meant to say it inside his head.
"I should go… thank you again," I said.
"If you want—only if it doesn't scare you—I can drive you back," he offered. "But if you don't trust me, I understand."
"I can go by myself, thank you," I said.
"Very well, miss. Have a good evening."
He looked at me for a long moment… then left.
The next day, I saw a familiar car in the campus parking lot.
Yes… it was his.
Black, with flashy rims, stylish as hell.
I wanted to leave him a note.
"Just… thank you," I wrote.
Then, from a distance, I saw him walking toward the car.
I didn't know what I'd say if he saw me, so I decided to walk away.