I capped my pen as I had willingly accepted my defeat. The intellectual conundrum brought about by our structurals class was so out of my league that I sought consolation through the thought of handing over an unfinished paper. “At least, it’s over,” that’s what I said to myself.

Isabel, who was a few seats away, was agitated by my lack of resolve. She told me that I could do better than simply succumbing to my defeatist attitude. She may not know it but during that moment, she helped reestablish my composure through the mere guarantee of an exercise’s completion.

You see, it’s the little everyday stuff like this that matters. They seem insignificant at first, but after an exhausting day, these same subtle memories will be the ones to perk me up, like finally relinquishing old, pesky habits or having one’s crush run his fingers through one’s hair.

(I know the last paragraph’s a bit awkwardly written. But I put it there anyway since I wanted to shout to the world having HIM run his fingers through my hair made my day. It was a soft touch with an electric feel; the most magical feeling in the world. And yes, it’s the hormonal teenage girl side of me that’s talking right now.)


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