This is just…. Heavy.
My life has, so far, been multiple shades of black and grey and my sights varied in color but not the tone of their hues. The skies, as I saw them, were blue but never bright enough to lift my spirits. Doves were only birds and I saw no difference in celebrating the sight of an animal of the same category as a simple city Maya. I found my solace in the loneliness of absent company, empty chairs, and an open book. But I did find substance in the company of a certain lively, black-haired girl named Charlotte— my neighbor, childhood friend, and the first love my eyes met.
Charlotte knew me deeper than the world did, and I saw in her, comfort my own mind could never give me. She spent her summers playing patintero or tumbang preso in the street between our two opposite houses while I sat…
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