The following entry was originally hand-written on a typical sheet of notebook paper. The author, who was feeling unusually sensitive that day, felt a heavy emotion radiating from a person she passed by while browsing through the vast collection of books on the third floor of the Rizal Library Annex. She thought that the feeling would go away but she found out that she can't concetrae on answering her ultra-long chemistry problem set that she scribbled the feeling away on the sheet that was supposed to be containing singnificant figures and dimensional analysis solutions. Everything here is same as the original though a few parts were removed.
June 13, 2008 (11:28 AM)
I saw a boy.
Doning a black shirt, sadness radiates from him towards me as I accidentally passed by him.
I know him.
He was quite illustrious in our lot and for many people, that fame would suffice that empty space in their hearts. When I saw his dull, dark eyes, I became affected. He seems to have it all – at a stranger's point-of-view that is.But not everyone sees the troubles his downcast eyes mirror.
In those seconds, when we just stood in front of each other in between the tall bookshelves of the library, I understood bits of how he feels. Maybe if that boy (whom others already see as a man) will be able to read this small reflection of mine, he might accuse me of intruding his privacy or probably being judgmental towards his actions and preferences. I'd wilingly take those accusations from him without hard feelings because indeed, what I have just written were all based on my perspective.
But you see, this is the second time we saw each other (in the similar manner). I don't expect him to remember me because I, myself, have almost forgotten that I was in the same testing room as him during a foreign standardized testing exam. After this recent encounter, everything came back to my memory.
His eyes are still the same.
His unhappy-looking eyes must have shared the melancholy feeling unto me for I can't help but remember those eyes. Writing everythig down is just my way of expressing the degree his sadness has affected me. He just stood there for a second and made his way past me – just like that. But it really racked my thoughts and my emotions.
When we parted ways, I wanted to look back and smile at him, assure him that there are still people who feel and think for others.
But he's already gone.
Hopefully, next time.
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