Dear Mino.

Do you remember the first time we met? It was at that Physics class we loved to hate. You were late on our very first day of class, and you didn’t even bring your ballpen or anything relevant to the class, for that matter. So you asked me, the awkward turtle, for one. You were wearing your signature khaki shorts, paired with a white polo. You never closed the first button so I could see the black tattoo peeping underneath. Tattoos never , but you were an exception. The only exception. You were wearing your Sperry’s and I wrongly concluded that you were a douche since your outfit pegged you as one. During that time, I thought that your walls were hard to break but in seconds, all my stereotypical fallacies about you crumbled into dust. You told me a joke waiting for me to laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world. I tried my best to give off the heartiest laugh I could give since I was making a good impression and I thought that maybe you weren’t that bad after all. You asked for my number right before the professor dismissed us. And at that moment, I felt like I was going to die. But you didn’t let me. Since you made me die many more times after that.

Just come back. I promise to change, to be a better person, a person worthy of you. I promise to always wake you up with kisses on your forehead on those ty sleepless mornings because of our rare heart-to-heart talks the night before. I’d even prepare your freshly brewed coffee