"Don't you trust me?"
The guy asked smiling which somehow comforted me.
I have been talking to him about some random things now which drawn me closer and closer to him.
I didn't know when we started talking but may it be for short or long time now, my answer will always be certain.
"I do." I said returning that smile back.
I have never been this comfortable talking to someone to the point where I can just tell him my story without hesitating. My body just eases every time I pour out some narratives feeling like he won't judge any of it.
"How about you, are you happy with where you are now?" I suddenly asked upon knowing his background.
"I am." He answered. "I was given the chance to pursue what I like, everyone's been very supportive with what I do. Everything's just falling into place."
I was delighted because of his answer. I can see through his eyes that he's really happy with how his life flows as of the moment and with that I don't know but I was kind of proud of him. Knowing his work and how he's genuinely happy and into it made my heart flutter not just because he's sharing something personal to me but also because I can see how our lives are the total opposite.
Before I was even born, my life has already been planned by my family. I wasn't given the chance to take the track of my own liking. It was always them who decides for me. From what I say, what I do, how I dress, how I talk and even the course that I should take. Everything's just not from my own decision.
Seeing how he make his own choices bearing such successful results, the satiation that I should feel for myself effused into his.
That moment, everything became vague and the only thing that remained clear was him holding my hand while staring at his phone. He intertwined our fingers as he continued telling me his stories as if he wanted me to know him well.
"Hey, today's Monday, right?" He suddenly asked.
I was taken aback by his random question which then made me frown.
"Yes. Why?" I said confused.
"Aren't you running a little late?" He questioned.
"Late?" I asked again, now bewildered.
Suddenly someone screamed which made both of us look sideways.
"Slate! You're running late! Wake up already!" my mom screamed.
"What?" I looked at him and suddenly saw his figure slowly fading. By then I knew I was just only dreaming. I melancholically looked at his figure, and just like the other dreams that I had, I wished I could've just stayed in it. I wished I could just live inside my mind.
As that thought intensifies I already pushed myself to rise and answer my mom.
"I am wide awake, mom! Give me a minute!" I screamed back.
I immediately went to my table and grabbed my pad. I started writing whatever it is that had happened to that dream before it even fades my mind.
Staring at it while I write down the last thing that I remembered, it made me asked myself for the hundredth time.
"What would I do about it?"
No matter how much I try to negate my answer, it will always remain the same like the others.
"...don't even try to do something about it."