indifferent, he made me.

i sat next to the cold glass window, watching tiny beads of rainwater trickle down the pane, listening to the pitter-patter on the brick-red pavement;

they mumbled on about boys, their faces reddening like sweet cherry tomatoes under the sweet summer sky as they mentioned names and pointed around

though,

i didn’t care, i didn’t want to care, at least.

sipping on some hot milk tea, i tugged on her oversized sweater, pulling the slightly wrinkled beige knitted sleeves downwards, all whilst glancing at them occasionally.

the only thing i cared about, surprisingly,

was how blunt charcoal pencils were and how streaky watercolour was, how cold the tea was and how hot breath felt against my skin, how brushes felt against my fingertips, and how I didn’t care about the opposite , at least, anymore.

listening attentively to the noise outside, the rumbling of trucks, frustrating honks of the taxis and click-clacks of heels of businesswomen as they chattered loudly on their phones;

“you okay there mika?” a sudden tap on her shoulder brought me back to reality

glancing over to the group of fashionable young women who were now focused on me, giggling at my flustered expression.

“i- im okay.”

“you kinda spaced out there for a while, are you sure youre fine?” one of the girls sitting opposite  questioned mockingly,

sitting there, i questioned myself and the absurdity of me fooling myself into perceiving a fondness to these, incomprehensible women

pushing away my thoughts for a short second, I decide to hide my despise for these girls whom I had a slight distaste for in particular, and try to be amenable.

“im fine, but its probably time I leave for class now, I guess ill see you guys later?”

I stood up, looking at the girls who didn’t seem to give my statement a quick pass through their minds that have been corrupted by society’s values of how a 16 year old girl should be.

And thus, I left. Pushing away the plastic chair and fleeing across the pebbled road.

I could still feel raindrops dripping onto my shoulders as if they have managed to seep through my sweater, the sky was blueing, with gray clouds growing fainter by the moments I take a blink, being replaced by puffy, white clouds that reminded me of the sugary scent of diabetes in evening summer carnivals, and the time, I met,

him.

I climbed up the 4^th flight of stairs, considering the fact that I should probably take sports and increase my ever-so-weak (weakening) stamina. By the time I shove my panting torso into the classroom, I realise I wasn’t alone.

There he was. Staring at me.

I could feel his eyes on me as the class progressed. His gaze made me feel, uneasy, made me recall our past, and made me realise why he made me feel so,

different.

As the bell struck our ears like thunder in a storm, I dashed out of the building to the nearby subway station, praying that I would never get the chance to meet him ever again.

but then,

I felt a strong grasp on my tiny wrist, a familiar one to be exact.

without turning around, I spat out.

“what do you want.”

he followed me up the stairs. not minding the inevitable silence between us. we sat down on the bench as we waited for the next train to arrive.

“sorry”

he leaned in  and pecked my freckled cheek, standing up.

I stepped onto the train along with the tens of hundreds of others boarding, facing him across the border, i mouthed.

“I loved you a lot.”

“I loved you more” his mouth shaped.

“I still love you”

“I still love you more”

“I love you”

and that was it he was gone.

and the train started speeding across the tracks.

tears rolled down my face, accumulating the years of silence, the years of understanding what made me indifferent.

“I love you”  

I hear the husky, deep voice of his, and turn around, burying my pathetic self in his wide chest, crying as hard as I could.

“I love you more”

a drip of tears rolled down his jaw, dripping onto my sweater, I crumpled myself into his arms, scared of letting go like last time, and said.

“I know”