I wish you bluebirds in the spring

To give your heart a song to sing

And then a kiss, but more than this

I wish you love

    You may not know this, but you were my miracle.

    I don’t really believe in miracles you see, things like the arts and gods and religion never made sense to me. By now you can conclude that I probably don’t believe in love or having sentiments with a significant other either, since they almost came in a package for most. All of those had no base, and I never liked uncertainties and fluctuations, especially when it involves the most unstable object of the equation; Humans. But what I do believe is the power of numbers and precise calculations, it seemed much more easier than dealing with emotions or strong feelings. People are welcomed to debate with me on the matter any time, they’re welcomed to call me someone who likes to play it too safe, I’ll teach them math and you’ll know how easy it was.

    Maybe it was me being a stubborn child, scarred because of the early exile that happened when the entire student body found out that you’re a young math prodigy with a round face that makes you stand out even more than the grades that the female teachers gossip about. Children can be so cruel with words and what’s worse is that they don’t even know the density of it all, and they never really grasp the fact how much the words ‘fatso’ can really hurt. Things got worse when I was encouraged to skip a grade, the others really didn’t take it so well. But I guess I had something to do with it because they’re always being compared to me, but then it’s their parent’s wrong doing, but then again that’s none of my business. Afterwards I sort of drowned myself in a sea of seclusion and algorithms, and I was okay with that.

    I remembered my high school years vividly. I remembered the morning had started in the way it had been every other sunny days preceding before it, the sun was making its way through the parted drapes, the visible dust particles dancing around, and the sound of the city waking up outside the windows. I remember always getting up at 6 sharp and was ready to go to school at 7.05 on the dot without missing a beat. I remembered I was obsessed with order and punctuality that it was bordering OCD. I remembered I finally had friends but with lesser quantity than the average teen, but they were okay I suppose. I remembered I grew out of the fat nerd into the decent looking scholar, with the help of my sister Sohee, she’ll kill me if I don’t credit her. I remembered getting a confession letter, shocking.

But most of all amidst the unnecessary school festivals, the countless of tests popping up like daisies, amidst the hours of shrinking inside empty classrooms to solve more mathematical problems and being suffocated by the chalk dusts; there was you.

I remembered you most, even though I’m sure you don’t. But I don’t mind. You can hurt me in the most agonizing way, you can forget me completely, and darling, I wouldn’t mind. I just wished I made more of my time back then.

If I had known that the future was what it is now, I would’ve done things much differently, with much more style perhaps.

You were the prince that came from the mainland, or so the girls dubbed you. You moved in at the second semester of ninth grade. Rumors said it was because of family business, others was because of a divorce, some said you came because God answered their prayers for an eye candy. (Ridiculous, I know. But it was nice for a comic relief). I also heard rumors about you being a prodigy as well in a subject that was worlds apart from mine. At first I didn’t pay any mind to who or what you are since it has nothing to do with me, you were a pretty face that was loved and adored and I was just another average joe who can solve math problems next to you. Although truth be told, those rumors of you perked my interest in the most smallest amount. But our path weren’t supposed to pass, that didn’t last very long though.

It was the first day of 10th grade and, quoting the girls; “God graced us with your presence in the classroom but then limits us because you decided to sit next to the scholar” which was me.

“Hello.” Was the first word you said to me, much like anyone else.

“Hey, Luhan, right?” I stood up and shook your hands, much like anyone else.

Your eyes turned crescent and you nodded. “Yep, you must be Mingsock.” You pronounced my name wrongly with such adorable pride, I almost didn’t have the heart to tell you it was wrong.

Almost.

“Um, it’s Minseok actually.”

“Minsock?” You tilted your head to the side in the most adorable manner.

But I was a bit frustrated back then, I liked my name more than I thought because I ended up reiterating it slowly. “Min-seh-ok.”

“Mince-ock!”

I had forgotten that you were a foreigner and the syllables that we use here weren’t common of use back in your home. I dropped the subject using the little Chinese that I know and after agreed for you to call me “Min” rather than us wasting our breath trying to make you pronounce my name correctly.

We didn’t talk properly for the first month except for the occasional “hey” and “see ya” at the end of every day. I noticed that you never really did take your time to converse with someone longer than a minute or two in school, so I thought that you were not really the social type despite the cheery outlook.  

We didn’t talk to each other for more than greetings until the 15th day of the second month. You were drawing something that was different than all of your other works that I’ve seen before, and I saw you doodle in class quite often by now as well. I can hear the soft sighs emitted at the small break intervals, I noticed the colors that you used wasn’t as bright as your other works and doodles were, and your eyes were telling a whole different story. I felt things looking at you and your work.

Out of politeness, I went and asked. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes went wide as saucers and you looked at me as if I grew another head. “What makes you say that?” Your tone was soft, but there was a hint of genuine shock.

I pointed to your work and what you did is look at me and your book back and forth. I coughed, feeling that I had to clarify. “Your drawings look a bit more gloomy than usual. But don’t get me wrong, I like this one along with the others. But I don’t know, this one came off as rather strong and it made me feel things.”

    Your eyes became crescent again, this time they’re laced with some sort of relief and despair at the very same time. You never answered my question, instead you asked me another, again.

“Do you like soccer?”

That day we got caught by the teacher for talking too much in class. I lost a few points for talking, but I gained something that was much more in worth; you.

You wanted an actual friend that day and I was just being nice and honest when I replied “Yes” with a small lopsided smile across my face. But the way your eyes lit up at my answer like Christmas and the echoes of you laughter, tells both of us that this was going to be bigger than the cosmos itself. It was unexpected, but the best things comes from the unplanned.

At the end of the day, in all the sweating glory and dirt covered pants, I got your KakaoTalk and it didn’t stop there. It never does and I’m grateful for it. Being with you for the whole academic year (plus a few weekends and national holidays) was a whole new season of unprecedented events, your whole being and being with you was like the pictures that you painted quietly in the art room after school before coming back home. Every day was an adventure filled with feelings that I never knew could be felt and was too hard to explained, you made life so easy and warm it almost felt like a surreal life insurance commercial.

You made me feel things.

Who knew you could connect with someone that you knew for less than a year? You taught me that some things just transcends time and, as cheesy as it sounds, what a real friendship is like.

“Come on you Baozi, I seriously won’t mind!” You exclaimed while calling me with that undignified nickname, eyes looking almost desperate yet amused at the very same time.

“It’s fine.” I replied.

In which you only sighed and replied, “It takes two to tango, Min. you can’t always be the one who endures and dances alone. It’s not a tango.”

“But we’re not dancing.”

“That’s not what I-” You stopped and let out a small laugh. “On being friends, you gotta open up to. Or else it’ll be no different than just having someone to follow you around and I don’t want that, nor do I want to be the only one shifting to fit into the mold.” Your eyes turned soft, and I couldn’t look away or explain how beautiful your eyes were that same moment. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be one either. Stop thinking too much.”

You and your eyes never did let me stand a chance. “Fine.”

“Fine what?” You asked back, looking incredibly smug.

“Turn down the music, I hate Bieber.”

“Finally!” With fists pumping the air, you sauntered over to the player to turn it off. “I ing hate Bieber too.”

It didn’t make sense to me on why would you play something that you hated as well, and in which you answered with; “I wanted to know what you like and dislike.” With the smile I learn to adore these past years before facing the music player again. “But I’m gonna play Timberlake and this time I don’t care if you like it or not.”

And I didn’t mind.

Things was going well, you got me out of my comfort zone. We played soccer every friday night and you would occasionally crash to my place, you’d bring nothing but a toothbrush and underwear, and you’d always look like you wanted to leave with that far off gaze in your eyes. But somehow your eyes would revert back to the cosmos again whenever my mom cooks you food, or whenever my younger sister would cling to you because you were so likable it’s endearing.

We talked about lots of things because not only was it so easy to like you, it was also easy to talk and connect with you. You always listened and was so responsive, even towards other people that you had a hard time liking. I guess that’s why they made you a fan club in school.

“So what are your plans after this, Min?” You asked me one day because one day our teacher gave us an assignment to write about our hopes and dreams.

I had my life planned out. “Go to college, major in computer science or IT. I’m flexible. Get a job, be an awesome scientist or inventor that the world can’t help but be amazed at, pay my sister through college, get a house in Budapest and probably marry someone then die. Kids would be in the equation somewhere, but I’m still considering that part.”

Your eyes blinked, looking a little shocked. “That’s...that’s completely sorted out. And is all that what you really wanted?”

I nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, was always interested in computers. If all else fails I could be a programmer or hacker, if really desperate.”

“Why Budapest though?”

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