March.

It is march, again. March, a reflection of midterms, storybooks of bunny and the easter eggs, and barely any important dates. Just like a little boy, walking along the sandy shore, humming the nursery rhyme and when the wind blows, nothing is left. The footsteps. The voice. The memory.

Days without memories pass by as soon as the river flows. Will you remember the old lady who said bless you when you dropped a coin into her cup? She was wearing a cross. Or the dream that woke you up in the middle of the night, realising your pillow wet. The girl or boy who sat in front of you during the lecture 11 o'clock this morning. The eyes colour of the main character in the movie you watched yesterday night.

Ever since I came to Dublin, I knew that people are coming in and out of my life. One after another. The pmc programme seniors are leaving in a few days time. I will miss them, of course I will. Two years of friendship, not much not less. Just enough to fit into a position in my heart. People start asking me, whether I'll cry when my friends leave next year. At this very same time. I said I don't know.

I don't know. But won't you cry? Just because I am a crybaby. Because I always put in too much emotions and expectations. Because I wake up everyday to see my phone blinking, informing me of new messages. Because I don't walk alone, nor eat. Because I know I owe bernice 80 cents and jiahang a hug. Because of too many causes, I'm not sure if I can let them go happily, leaving nothing behind. I don't know if I think too much or what, but I feel like clique started to form, by house and by gang. That makes me think if I should be afraid of letting my eyes wet. Will they miss me when they leave? How long? I want people to miss me. Until we get old and forget about each other and can't even remember how to use the spoon. People that have been worried if I walk home alone at night. People that share something nice with me. People that say thank you.

There is still another year anyways. So many things can happen. I am not sad now. Still thinking about jamal in slumdog millionaire and amir in the kite runner. Those lives are interesting. With wishes and ambitions. Like mine :) Maybe I shouldn't tie myself up with diet plans! haaa, not like I am following any plans.

byebye seniors byebye friends.