That was five years ago. We never mentioned the journal issue again after that day. Elise and I chose not to attend the send-off party for Francis. We both knew that our absence was not a big deal in the event. No one would notice if we had shown up either. As she said, Francis was too occupied to give a shit about anyone especially about me.
And whenever the idea of the journal came to mind, I just laughed the hell out of it till I convinced myself that what I did was ridiculous. The nineteen-year-old me had not utilized her brain to think, she was so fond of following the mindless thing in her chest.
I had ceased writing in paper planes for Francis. In addition to that, I stopped writing in journals thoughts, and poems for him. Five years ago, I was so attached to the feelings I had for him. I was afraid that I would not overcome the attraction I felt, but there was always a reason for me to get over him. I had lost updates about his whereabouts abroad. I presumed that my feelings melted five years ago, it sailed away together with the hope that someday our paths would cross again.
I was once lost in him. Lost with the idea of Francis. Like I let myself drown in a deep body of water, aware that I couldn't swim. I realized I had developed a special feeling for him when he started to invade my thoughts. It was not about how good-looking he was in my eyes, not about how generous he was as a friend to his colleagues, not because he was a responsible school leader, but maybe because he was someone I viewed as the character that I only read in books. Perfect but not in a way you couldn't find any flaws in him. Everything about Francis made sense to me.
It was just funny that one-sided admiration could be heartbreaking when you found out that you were not going to see the person again. The feeling was like confessing to the person you like and was not given a response, as though you were left hanging.
I felt these inviolable feelings for him when I was a freshman, though he was a year older than me, I didn't consider that as a reason not to like him. There was a lot more about him that I found interesting. Sadly, I was just the girl who happened to be friends with his coterie of friends. Maybe that was all he knew about me and I was glad, I was contented.
Let's not talk about the past circumstances and the consequences I might face when the journal incident be brought up again. For now, there was so much on my plate than thoughts about Francis.