For you, Illinois.

Just like how the year has 4 seasons, you were only in my life for one.

And damn was it a good one.

I’d still be lying if I said I didn’t think about you from time to time. To be honest, you barely left my mind.

They say these days another form of flattery and a boost of confidence is taking screenshots of selfies sent to you personally on Snapchat. And boy, didn’t you have a gallery full of mine. You always had proof of my face – my different expressions, my raw, naked face; it was a weapon of yours to use it against me when we playfully argued about minuscule matters. You were on the top of my snapchat, WhatsApp, Facebook – everything.

You never failed to remind me I was beautiful in a bun, without false eyelashes, eyeliner. Silly faces, we always made silly faces. You always noticed things he didn’t, I didn’t, that no one else did. You made me feel like I was something when I felt like nothing. You made me feel like I mattered even when the (supposedly) most important person in my life made me feel like shit. You were my escape. You showed me what could have been, and what I could have had, what I was missing out on.

That night, that one night I’ll always remember. You were probably the only person in Blowfish in a sweater and I probably was the only girl who had two boxes of ziplocks in my bag. Both smelling like cigarettes, both judging drunk people making out, both sitting on the podium and giggling about random ass shit. We made each other laugh and my weirdness intertwined with yours and at that moment it felt right.

I remember you always dressed for the occasion and your style was impeccable. Dress shirt with a sweater over it, mostly blue. Sneakers or oxfords, loafers. Dark rimmed glasses. I commented on how formal you dress one time and you said because “I was meeting you!”

I’d like to think we came into each other’s life in the right time, in the right chapter.

Unemployed and free, you reminded and showed me how family should be a priority in life and that’s who we have at the end of the day. Right then and there, I knew you are raised by two loving parents. I wanted to be in your position, I wanted what you have.

But you wanted what I couldn’t give you. Not then, not ever. Not that girl. You craved the intimacy and nakedness of my soul, but what you didn’t know was I didn’t even know who I was. How am I supposed to show you who I am and how I feel when I can’t even explain myself? When I don’t even know myself and what I was doing?

But there it was. I wanted it all. I was selfish. I gave into something I shouldn’t have and I lost you. Many times I tried, but I guess it’s no longer the same. I understand. Lesson learnt.

Take extra care and thank you for showing me how a boy from a functional family turns out to be, S.Lee.

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