Yes, it's me again, the guy who can't seem to stop talking about...

It's funny how things quickly change over a few days. I wrote that nine days ago, when life was a sugar rush. The weeks prior to that day was the opposite, although for some reason it was beyond excruciating and all. I was typing again, not knowing what will come out of it.

It's not really been that long, but for some reason things became more evident during the last couple of months or so, and for reasons I can't even understand.

Nine days have passed since I sent that letter to Kelly - primarily powered by an urge to write a really coherent story, as opposed to the first one - and already, I was in cahoots over something I don't really understand. A phone call two days ago, a totally unrelated one, virtually left me depressed throughout the entire day! It's funny, because technically, I chickened out on the one thing I (impulsively) decided to do, and yet I took it as something totally different.

The afternoon before, I was talking to Piyar about her eyes, and her eyebags. "A thought before I leave," I told her that time. "Our emotional baggage are reflected in our eyebags."

I told Kelly the same thing that night. I don't remember how she reacted, but she was a bit shocked, I think. My eyes were droopy, but for some reason I thought I had to do it.

Exactly fifty-five minutes later, I decided I'd give back the movie tickets I just won.

We never really became close friends - she was always closer to my friends than me - but we got to work together, and shared a few ups and downs together.

Carlo finally gave a name to the brush-up I do with my hair whenever it gets precariously unmanageable: the Vito Corleone look. People noticed it again, but yesterday I had a hair cut, quickly letting go of the one thing that actually make people notice me. I was still reeling from the night before, and surprisingly so, because I had already thought up stuff for myself - I didn't really lose anything!

"I guess I'm sounding hopeless right now, eh?" I told Denise before I left for the barber shop. "No, scratch that. Desperate."

"Not desperate, but sappy really," she replied. "I mean sappy as in foolish... I don't know why you subject yourself to this..."

So, lately, whenever I see her, we say hello, sure, but the feeling gets heavier, and heavier...

Nine days after I sent the email, it got aired. A handful of yihee moments, surely, although I think nobody else but Mae heard the entire thing. I was listening to the letter I just sent, and was laughing at the wide-eyed optimism that wasn't there, really, but was still surprisingly evident. As if seven days after that, I was that hopeless. No, scratch that. Pathetic.

So, Kelly, am I in love? Most of my friends who know think so. But I never thought it was that way, because I never found myself being hopelessly romantic over it.

Today, it took very little to push the story out of my mind.

But as stories are exchanged, and giggles are let out, I slowly start to believe that, yes, she is the one... but she has someone else.

The tickets are still sitting there at the Max FM studios, still unclaimed, and I don't really intend on claiming them anymore because of other commitments. It's funny thinking that two days ago, the most dominant thought in my head was, it's either her, or nothing at all. Two days later, I'm just laughing my silly self off, wondering where my sentimentality all went. Yet you can't forget thinking that, for one moment, you were the craziest person in the world, and all because of a person who, despite all the nice words you said, never really gives a damn.

"Sometimes we focus on something or someone," Kelly said, "that we don't realize the greatness and potential of other things and people around us."

And I hope things get better for all of us. Really!

Maybe I should stop here.

And your responses...

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