Chaque fois que tu t'en vas Je prétends que tout va bien.

I remember how this phrase went straight to my heart, and touched it like no one had ever done before.

Last night, I was watching the Miss America beauty pageant. Beautiful women with beautiful hearts and minds, apparently. I say apparently, because it is puzzling how they can actually talk about volunteering to help impoverished children, with a big smile plastered across their faces. Walking appears to be something learned too - small steps, synchronized movement between the upper and lower body, arms fixed in short oscillations. Watching the pageant got me thinking about what i really wanted. I don't want someone with the traits of a supermodel and the heart of mother theresa; all I need is someone who can be intellectual at times, who feels pity when she sees owners mistreating their pets, who prefers to stay home and make a meal together, who treats my family well, who will chase after a bus with me, no matter how unglamorous that may be, who will call me crazy when suddenly I pick her up and carry her across my chest while walking, but secretly loves it when I do that.


Well, spring break is finally at my doorstep, but I can't say I've been particularly looking forward to its arrival. Utter boredom, if I should say. Maybe that's why I've been going through old convos and webcam pictures. Hours on end, staring longingly at a face on the screen, conversing about nothing intellectual, making funny faces, sometimes shedding tears because you miss the other person so much. It all seems so recent, and despite that, so much like a dream.

Speaking of dreams, they're back again. This time, you seem so distant even though I'm right there beside you. The twinkling in your eyes and the scent of your hair fades with such haste, I'm unable to keep up. I try to run, but I'm held down with a ball and chain, of responsibilities I've yet to fulfill. We used to carry the weight together, but you're tired, you can't go on anymore. I walk much slower now, having to support this load myself. But at least it's getting slightly lighter with every step I take. I walk with determination, hoping for the day I can run again. By then, you will be far ahead, but I will run with all my might. And I wonder, would you slow down for me? I wonder, but I do not know. Will I meet someone along the way? I wonder, but I do not know. All I will have is hope; hope that if I keep running, one day I would catch up with you. After all, you did turn around once, and you found me.