4th December, a certain date which I’ll always remember. The date when God sent one of the most beautiful angel into this harsh, dirty world. I’ll always thank God and his mom and dad, to have brought him, though not by my side.

Here, I am. Looking, staring blankly at the calender which was hung up on my pink wall, his favorite color. Opened my laptop, I logged into my facebook immediately. Just like a habit, I typed his name on the search box. As soon as the page of his profile filling my screen, I’m scrolling down to the wall post section. Later realized, there isn’t any birthday greeting. I glanced at the bottom right corner of the screen. Of course, it’s five minutes less from the exact 00.00. I guessed I was too excited. Just like every year, for 13 years.

Five minutes are more than enough, to bring back the memories of him, which I desperately want to bury deep down, but only keep floating up in my mind.

In the first minute, time was flying to the first time we met. He was that transfer student, walking happily into the class with light steps. Teacher told him to sit beside me, and of course I was so glad about it. He had no textbook at that time, so I shared mine with him. Does he even remember? Probably he doesn’t. He has a poor memory. Back to the story, after a week in the new school, he still had no textbook. Since I originally disliked sharing what was mine, I felt like a week was enough time for him to buy his own book. One day, I acted like a brat and didn’t let him see my textbook. I drew a line in our table and told him to not cross it. In the end of that day, he was crying out loud and made our homeroom teacher worried. She asked him why he cried, and he spilled it all while snorting. Does he know what was so funny? He was ugly when he cried, yet right at that time, my heart was beating so hard, as if it’d jump out of my body. Not because I was afraid of the teacher, but because his ugly-crying face, weirdly became attractive to me. I still feel sorry toward him for what happen and for being immature, but hey, we were in our 3rd grade at that time! Plus I got a good scolding after he stopped crying.

Time stepped to the second minute. I don’t know why my mind picked this memory out, in our 6th grade, a day before our graduation day. I remember clearly, that day I didn’t ride my bicycle. I got in a little fight with mom and stupidly stormed out of house by running, left my beloved bicycle behind. That day was the most regrettable day, in my life, ever. After the school was over, he offered me a ride to go back home, as our house were just few blocks away. Of course, I happily accepted it. Since his bicycle only has one seat, so I stood on the pegs. During the ride, I put my hands on his shoulders. His back was wide, shoulders were long. I wonder how it’d be right now. On our back home, he asked me something, something he should have never asked, in that way. As other 6th grader asked the boy or girl they liked to go out with them, or simply spat love confession, he was asking different thing. Still with me facing his wide back, stood on the pegs of his bicycle, he innocently asked me who the one in my heart was. Being the shy girl like always, of course the question hit me in the back of my head. How could I ing tell him, it was him, it was him ever since 3rd grade, my first love, my pure and innocent love. And sadly, it’s still him for the next 10 years, if only I knew this fact at that time. I kept avoiding the hell-like question, yet he insisted me to give the answer. How could a boy ask a girl that stupid question? What did he have in mind at that time? I really want to know as it keeps bugging me even now. I couldn’t simply spill his name, with me behind him, on his beloved bicycle. I decided to randomly spat out a name, with a grin awkward smile plestered on my face, if only he could see. I, unconsciously, asked the same thing to him. Only to get my heart broke, for the very first time. My bestfriend’s name was the one that slipped out of his plump lips. Is that your real answer? I still am wondering, sometimes. What if, just what if, I spell out his name at that moment? If I spelled out that name which always in my mind, in my heart, what will happen to us? Did he also spat any random name at that time, after heard my answer which was not him?

Time flew to the fourth minute. Like our usual event, we met again last year. It has been a tradition for our class, to meet every year, for simply hang out and eat. And as usual, he is gentle, care, and gives extra attention to me. I had successed to move on from him, only to fell again the next time we met. Again, and again, for these 13 years. I’ve failed, miserably. Last year was no