Chapter 168 - Dont Ask Me If I Love You 1: The Writer (1/2)

”Well, I heard brothers are like that. But if you don't have brothers, I guess male friends are like that,” Yanee surmised, and Anjee smiled.

”Yes, it's like that. I didn't have brothers. Peter was like that for me. He's also a single child, so we kind of started off as close as siblings were, but it grew to something else as we grew older. For me, it's a gradual thing until I was old enough to be aware of love in middle school. For him, it was an instant thing at a random time. He realized his feelings had changed. But he didn't know what to do until we almost separated when I chose to follow a different path from him and he panicked,” Anjee shared with a fond smile on her face. Do you know why I know this?”

Yanee of course, had no idea and so she shook her head.

”It's because of this,” Anjee said as she placed a recorder on the table and Yanee looked at it with a puzzled expression.

”Peter worked with a recorder on hand. It's so he could still take notes even without a pen or paper.” A mischievous smile played on her lips and Yanee finally understood what was going on.

The recorder had a voice of Peter— basically like a diary of some sort and Anjee was naughty enough to bring it so she could listen to it. She looked at her questioningly but Anjee nodded.

”Don't worry, he knows. He couldn't come with me to also give you his side of the story so he came up with this,” Anjee ȧssured her before pushing the play buŧŧon, and both Yanee and her listened to Peter Choi's voice.

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My heart… it felt like bursting.

As the single plume glided across the white sheet, the ink painting colorful words on its bȧrė confines, I let the waves of emotions sway myself. Have I not longed for this time to come? A time when I closed my eyes and be able to envision the world I'd always coveted. The chains of depression finally breaking down, I felt my life's wings spread wide as I looked up at the sky and smile, ready to fly away.

I was free...

With adrenalin rushing through my veins, my heart throbbing with a familiar thrill, I picked up the pieces of my dreams. The distant light played the mirage of my youthful yearning, the phantasmagoria enticing me to pen down fleeting memories, giving them shape and emotions, making them real, making them happen.

This is it! Excitedly I typed down the words that came rushing in my mind.

[I could see…visions.

The myriad of broken glass of dreams, the kaleidoscope of memories, the chaotic fusion of the past, present, and future, I could see them all…and it scared me. How it scared me…