I was in the corner of my doomy room, when I saw crumpled sheets of scented paper scattered on the floor. I was still drowning because of that bottle of red purplish liquid having the mixture of bittersweet taste. I can still remember I was wearing my favorite cocktail dress with a rosy tint cheeks, and a chilly red lips. Drops of tears dampen my face. My attention was captured by the paintings on the wall. The paintings of my favorite fairies having their glittering magical source of power and strength--pixie dust and also my knight in shining armor--Peter Pan. Because of this sickness, I've wasted all the time, the chances and opportunities to be happy, to be with the ones I love, to make happy memories with them, to show how they mean to me. I took for the chance granted to find myself, to bring myself back, to realize how sweet, how grateful I am to live in this world, to glance at the most perfect masterpiece on earth, to meet the most perfectly imperfect man of the entire universe, the one I can't live without.
It's getting dark so I decided to turn my lampshade on to enlighten the whole room. I looked into the calendar, and I realized that it's already on the 10th of August. My heart felt a little bit hurt. I didn't remember anything, but I think there's something wrong. Something that makes my heart torn into pieces. I forced myself to remember anything, anything that was related to that day. Yes, it's odd, very odd. Suddenly a picture of a young lady popped up in my mind. Her sweet smile, her laugh, her giggle. The way she looked at me, at us, the way she made me impressed at some stuffs. The way we shared our thoughts, our experiences, our secrets. The way we argued, or made some dramatic situations, and everything. She's almost perfect. She has the brain, the beauty, the attitude, the pride, the self- confidence, the dedication. She's just a realia of every man's dream. She's like a warrior, she never thought how hard to live with this terrible and horrible life. She never loses her hope and never gives up.
She's the woman with flying colors. She's one of a kind. And she's the girl version of Popoy Gonzales. She's Chlovelle, my future engineer.
My consciousness went back. Because of almost a half of my life has been wasted. I could still remember the time when she asked me to stop closing my eyes looking for that nightmarish fantasy called him. That I need to stop picking a poisonous red rose with its prickling thorns because it might harm me, and it's toxic. So I tried to clean up those mess, to remove my immaturity. I have to make myself better, to prove that I'm not “nobody”, to make them realize how worthy I am to have them, to make them realize that I am everything. Then I remembered the diamond jewelry that was worn around my neck. It was the most precious thing I've ever received. It was, because of him.