Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always

o1. it's been a crazy couple of years for us, hasn't it? i actually adore you, and now i remember why. we've put each other through so much, but at the end of it, we've become amazing friends and i wouldn't trade a single moment with you—the tears, the laughs, the late nights, the texts, and every single song. with you there are no pretensions; there are no mirrors. thank you for always being up for an adventure. SECOND CHANCE

o2. some people talk about bravery. you go out and live it, and i admire you so much for it. i'm scared for you and what the future holds, but i'm also beyond proud. keep in touch, because whenever you come home, i'll always be here to say hello. i love our lifechats across the miles; you may not be here in front of me, but nothing's changed. FEARLESS

o3. you have talent that some of us would kill for. that, coupled with a sincere humility and incredible humbleness, makes me admire you so much. you're the most naturally gifted person that i've met in this field, and i am so, so jealous. you have an entire world of potential at your feet. you inspire me just by existing; the fact that you're so good makes me want to do better. you are going to do great things someday. A LOGICAL MIND

o4. i don't want to hate you. it's not worth it, because i think that we could potentially be good friends. you are so much fun, but you need to watch how your words and actions affect others. CLASS ACT

o5. i never meant to hurt you. i'm sorry, because you gave me everything and i could not have asked for more. i care—so much—and i always, always will. you need to know that i will never forget the way that you turned my world around. i was yours at the perfect time. RAINFALL

o6. the world doesn't owe you anything. you're talented? a lot of people are talented. good intentions don't stand for anything. hard work makes all the difference; don't you dare ever forget that. PROVE IT

o7. who am i to you? i'm a real girl, and don't you forget it. i can't make up my mind about you. i'm only half joking when i say that you stand for everything that i hate, yet i like you as a person more than i intended, and more than i care to admit. i like that you're ambitious yet utterly unpretentious. conversation is a lost art, but you have got it down to a science. i'm charmed. SIX SECONDS

o8. i wish i could be there, looking out for you. he'd better not break your heart. i worry about you, but as long as you're happy, then i'm pleased. everyone deserves to know the butterflies. ANGELS

o9. you taught me a lot about life at a time when i was figuring everything out for the first time. and though i've grown up and learned a lot about the world and about myself and found that maybe we disagree on some things, i'll always carry your words with me. STAY BEAUTIFUL

1o. you have my heart. A CINDERELLA STORY

The Heart's Map

They were drunk.

But curiously enough, they hadn’t had anything to drink all night.

“What time is it?” she asked. 

He tapped his watch, its numbers glowing in the early morning darkness. “Five o’clock,” She winced, willing the time to pass slower—fighting dawn. 

They sat in silence, watching the moonlight glittering on the dark water. The city was occasionally bitingly cold despite the fact that it was July. She was still in her red tank top and skirt from last night— clothes that advertised her non-local status—topped off with his five-sizes-too-large-for-her cardigan. 

Like the tourist she was, she had arrived early at the bar, forgetting that the French were notoriously, fashionably late. She had found herself alone with only a scowling bartender and a stranger. The latter was playing the piano on stage, totally oblivious to her arrival—or the presence of anyone else around at all. She had turned away, feeling like an intruder on an intimate moment. 

But soon enough, she had found herself swept onto the dance floor by a stranger with an unapologetic grin and confident rhythm. She had been about to extricate herself, when she realized he was the boy from the piano. “I’ve been looking for you. I thought you’d left,” he told her in an American accent—a sound she had missed since leaving New York.  

And that was how Isabella and Felix found themselves walking hand in hand on the streets of Paris, drinking each other in. 

He was a summer student at Le Cordon Bleu. She was an American tourist. 

They were perfect strangers with captivating chemistry.

She would be on a flight halfway across the world in twelve hours. 

The summer air was breathtaking, yet the only way to breathe. They had watched as a Parisian night transformed into morning—a suffocating bar had turned into a patio—a dimly-lit coffee shop—a walk along the Seine. Felix asked her where she was from—and it escalated into each of them spilling their guts to a nearly perfect stranger; intoxicated. 

The sun was rising on the water, heralding another day. Isabella could feel their time together slipping away with every ray of daylight. How ironic that such beauty brought misery. She blinked back tears. She dropped his hand. Felix turned to her, millions of unanswered questions and unwritten promises in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to miss you,” she whispered. She leaned in, breathing him in, and kissed his cheek in one fleeting moment. 

“Wait—"

But she was gone. 

~

Felix walked the path to his temporary home. If he hadn’t been able to feel her unforgettable kiss, he would have wondered if it were a dream. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, missing the warmth of her touch. Startled, he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket. 

7 Garden Street

America 

Meet me in the city that never sleeps.

Hopefully yours,

Isabella Laurentia

120 Hours

This past week marked the very first time that I have been challenged to the very limits of my abilities. It has literally been the worst 120 hours of undergrad to date. I have never wanted to quit so badly; I've never before thought that maybe I'm not cut out for math. Between the Real Analysis midterm that made my head spin trying to understand what the question was asking and the back-to-back deadlines, I questioned my decision for the first time ever, and I know that I wasn't the only one.

For the first time, I wondered if I was good enough. I spent some time (out of what very limited time that I actually had) doing some soul searching and seriously considering switching out into something easier. The option was real for a moment. I'd never doubted this choice of path so much before. For the first time since choosing Western math, I considered changing my mind. Those were some long nights.

But then I got back a perfect midterm. And then I ran into a professor from first year who never ceases to make me laugh, and while we were talking, he admitted that math is really, really hard—but it should be. There is a reason why math majors are known for having a decent amount of brain cells. Looking around at my classmates, I've found that it's true: I've been out of my element; I've sat down in a class full of incredibly talented people and felt lost—and that experience is why I have a lot of respect for my peers and professors, now more than ever after having seen the challenge firsthand.

This professor reminded me of the incredible potential of mathematics, and I walked away from Middlesex College that afternoon feeling better than I had all week, with a much-needed reminder to keep my eyes set on the goal and my heart set on the dream. There's something that I'd lost sight of somewhere in the chaos of this week: the truth is, I wouldn't want to be doing anything else. I love the challenge, and I love mathematics more than I hate the fear of failing, so I'm going to take a deep breath and a leap of faith because I know that someday this will all be worth it.

Of Dragons and Dreams

But maybe I don’t need any saving.

Every little girl wants to be a princess; to be cherished, to be loved. But not every princess is a damsel in distress, and maybe I refuse that fate. Maybe I don’t need you to come rescue me, and maybe I don’t need you to lead me. I want you to walk beside me and listen and speak and wonder with me. I want you to ask me big questions and challenge me; I want you to change my mind. I want you to hold my hand and spin me around in the wildest dance—but I don’t want you to lead me, because I don’t need a knight in shining armour.

I want you to be a hero, but I don’t want you to be my hero. I want to be my own saviour. I don’t need to be swept off my feet and carried off into some sunset, and I can slay my own dragons, thank you very much—because you know what? I love bows and twirly skirts and polka dots, I’m afraid of spiders, I cry at the drop of a hat, I dream like I mean it and none of those things make me any less capable; none of those things makes me weak.  

So, Romeo, you can indeed be the prince and I’ll be the princess, and together we'll write the greatest love story—but I’ll be my own heroine, because this princess doesn’t need any saving. 

Third Street Promenade

An empty parking lot in broad daylight

The restlessness of the cityscape, picture perfect

I cast my eyes upon the summer sun

The backdrop of endless traffic is merely whitenoise

Deafening is the knowledge that you are miles away

Guitar strings and twinkling laughter

Locked in a place untouched by the world

The forever soundtrack of our lives

And the inevitable chorus always happens

Right around this familiar summertime

All I've ever known and what I've never found

is the one thing I've been searching for since day one

We seek fleeting solace in strangers with brilliant grins

And the brightest of youthful laughter

But I have still never found what I'm looking for

Midnight coffee and starlit talks define these memories

Alongside the melodic accompaniment of your voice

This is our song across the heartrending distance

And the single question mark of a guitar string

Leaves me ever so breathless—as always

Do you notice? Your melancholy extends across miles

And finds me upon the careless summer air

I cannot help it but feel your loneliness

Yet I've never been one to mind a walk alone

Listening to the city streets as if my own heartbeat

The call of your heart is music; gravity

And I will always be your accidental answer

Uncomplicated as summer should ever be

I am your rhyme—reason—verse—chorus—

All rolled into one unbreakable last refrain  

These avenues tell the story

Of a girl and a boy and a timeless echolalia  

A song on repeat; a forever summer

So I will walk these streets and listen

To the lullaby of a city overflowing with wishes 

Waiting

It's quite curious; this fragile thing we share.

I stare at the city lights twinkling outside my window and wonder where you are tonight. I wonder if you ever look out at the world and wonder about me in the same way. Sometimes I have to blink and shake my head, reminding myself that you are real and walking the same streets, day by day.

You sent those first words to me on nothing more than a wild hope; without expectations. Little did you know how they would change my world. I don't think that either of us could have imagined how this would play out. I watched a few short lines slowly transform into letters filled with our hopes and dreams, and it is ever so strange how you have gotten to know me through these words in a way that would be impossible for anyone else.

Two souls could easily sit side by side, in silence, and spend hours together without listening to each other, but our chosen choice of communication forces us to listen. The time we spend together is precious in its fleeting nature. We share our lives with each other in the most curious way, and we walk with each other, parallel and perpendicular at the same time.

You could have never known, but words are my favourite way of expression. And now, with you, even more so than ever before.

So I will send these words on a wish into the great wide world, and hope that they find you, safe and sound.

“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.”

“Falling in love is very easy for me, but giving in is near impossible. And I am fine with it.” 

                                                                                    – Anonymous

This stranger read my mind—and my heart, for I have thought the same thing so many times over.

I can find romance everywhere but in myself.

I find love around every corner, but I have never known love. 

And for now, I’m alright with that. I see everyone around me so intent on finding someone to date, but I don’t understand it. I don’t understand the rush to be in a relationship with the one that you’ll spend the rest of your life with; you have the entire rest of your lives to find that great love.

I’m in no rush to give in, and I expect that when it happens, it won’t be of my own accord. But when it happens, I’ll be waiting.