28 March 2015



            A boy once told me that I am beautiful. I look up and stare in his eyes because I am not sure what to say. It was the first time in my existence that a boy praised my physical appearance. I am sure it happened in school because in my memory I can still smell the freshly baked bread in our Home Economics class. He normally does not say things like that. I never said a single word. I blinked and walked away. That day I wished that I have wings so I can fly and twirl and fly and twirl up in the sky.

            Dear Venus, what happened to that boy? He never showed up the next day at school. My friends told me that he had a serious family problem. I felt sad that day. Everyone was sad because that boy happened to have a sister who is popular for being kind and intelligent in the whole campus. So, I being sad was not questionable.
            I wonder what kind of man he had grown up to. I wonder if he would still remember talking to me that day. I wonder if he ever means what he said. I think he is now a man who enjoys life in its most precious way it can offer. I think he had a couple of ladies he had been with. I know for certain because that boy has a very handsome face and a very appealing personality. He came from a decent family recognized by the whole town. In short his family holds power but I wonder does power have something to do with his family’s disappearance years ago?
            Remembering him today is such a mood breaker. He is like a poem that starts in the middle lines. He is like those poems that I am not sure how to interpret its meaning. I mean could he be a part of the poem that says he is a metaphor? I am not sure. But still he is that person who gives me hope to believe that there are other boy that have utter the same word to a girl. I am not saying that he is the only one that told that I am beautiful. There had been some girl, lady, kid, another boy, a man but never the same way he said it.
            I write with the hope of your guidance in this matter. I know you can. None of my friends agree that you are real. But could go wrong if I send this letter?
            I write with hope that you include my story to your list of unfinished business. In time when I meet him again I would thank him. When he asked what it is for I won’t answer. So that whenever we meet I would start our conversation by answering his question from the day we thought we would forget.
            When will I ever see that boy again?     

*Photo Credit: Unsplash

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Maira Gall