I used to hum my way to school, let the breeze hum with me, as the sun rises above the calm bay. I hear the music from the sports complex, their daily aerobic routines, but as always different songs. They always play pop songs from different decades, from Cyndi Lauper to Madonna to Rio to Backstreet Boys to Aqua to Britney Spears to Lady GaGa, and always enjoyed how everyone was synchronized with their movements, in tune with the music.
Until you entered the green gate, every day, when I didn’t care much what time you always get to school because I was always early. You always smiled with the same pearly white teeth, your hair sprayed and ponytailed, as if getting ready to burst into song anytime someone wished. I didn’t care even when someone saw me allegedly kissing you in the cheek in the corridor, when I was just went there to fool around.
But with the way the coldness of every day I go to school early made me alone, the earliness keeping my head resting on my arms. So this is what loneliness feels like. That was the time I cared, even those days when I didn’t. Remember how people catch last song syndromes? They need to repeat the whole song; they need to feel the same sinking feeling until they get hooked.