Those familiar places, places I used to consider close to my heart, places that used to feel like home and all those memories now feel like a sharp dagger that pierces through my heart every time I reminisce. This is a story about a girl I used to go out with. She's funny, she has this chic kind of attitude, she's smart, sophisticated, and everything you can imagine. And this is how we started:

It was a Monday – my favorite day. A day everyone hates; I feel bad about it being hated by everyone so I liked it. I was alone inside my favorite coffee shop, reading my third book for the month when you approached me. “Hey”, you said. You asked me about the book I was reading. Then, you started talking about the author, and you surprised me with the fact that you know my favorite author more than I do. We talked for hours until you had to leave. You forgot to ask my name; I forgot to ask yours. 

Evening came; I was in a bar with my friends. Things were getting wild and there I was in the corner minding my own business…. when you came. You were introduced to us as Lisa’s business partner. We talked until the wee hours and I learned a lot of things about you; you’re a photographer, you write poems, you do what you love because you believe that life is too short not to enjoy it. Cliché, I know; but, that’s you. And that’s what I liked about you. When we were about to go home, you finally told me your name… Jennie. And you never asked about mine.

Few days later, I received a message – it was from you. “Hey”, you said. I started to think that “Hey” is your favorite word. I asked you how you got my number and unsurprisingly, Lisa was the one who gave it to you. You still didn’t ask for my name so I guess Lisa already told you. We exchange a few messages until you decided to call me. I was nervous; suddenly I forgot how to operate my phone. Then, I forgot how I managed to pick it up. I heard your voice from the other end, “Hey”. I giggled when I heard that; then we talked for hours… again; until we decided to go to this place – which eventually became our favorite. It’s a local pub with a viewing deck where we can see the city. Nothing much has changed since that night except for the fact that we talk more often.

Few months passed, we see each other more often than we used to; there were nights when you would call me in the middle of the night to tell me you’re in front of my apartment; there were a lot of spontaneous nights; but one of those nights were my favorite. We drove to our favorite place; we were not drunk; we were totally sober; we were just standing in the viewing deck, admiring the beauty of the city lights and how the beauty of the moon overshadows the urban. That night was my favorite. Because that was the night where you suddenly held my hand; “hey”, you said.