Made out of boredom (again). So if you insist, read on. (Take note, I am a pessimist. So I won't expect any fancy reviews.)

Mailbox

[Seven Years Ago]

Back when you were infatuated with me, I was horribly irritated with your messages which flooded my inbox. I had more important matters to attend to and here you are, driving all of my priorities away.

I admit that you were so bothersome.

I ignored it. Maybe you were just one of those people who had instant feelings which would disappear soon when you see another girl pass by. Maybe it's just admiration. Maybe it was what they called puppy love; a tender feeling that could vanish into thin air. You said those terms of endearment like they were just everyday words.

You gave me letters because you hated text messages, always filling my doorstep with envelopes and bouquets of flowers. Who cares? They always went to the garbage dump, anyway. But I discovered that my mother always delivers them to my room so I have no choice but to read your notes about getting closer and stuff. I always sigh not because I get romanced or something. I just want this all to stop because I'm getting tired of arriving at my home and having to take out trash.

Well, I'm a good liar, anyway…

[Last Night]

I am now the CEO of a world-renowned corporation, always answering calls from different countries or organizing meetings among my employees. It was too much to handle. Sometimes I wish I was in high school again, chatting with my friends endlessly and laughing about experiences in the class.

I don't know why but I decided to check my mailbox. It's not as if people don't send their business letters to my email, though. Late at night, the dewy grass on my front yard was so inviting that I had to find a reason to get out and be busy.

Newspapers. I tried fishing out personal mail and I came across one. It seemed so intricate with golden swirls and was perfumed with the smell of roses. Hastily, I tore the envelope open. The first word I saw was "cordially".

You're getting married next week.

Of all the messages you could've sent me, why this? Why not the sweet lines you used to say?

Why did I just realize it now?

Yes, people say that those who wait will prove that they are worthy of what they're waiting for- but here I am. I waited. Not that I ignored all that you did when we were young. I waited because I wanted to test you if you would remain by my side after all those years. I waited. But now it seems that opportunities were meant to be grasped the first time we encounter them….

Sometimes, time doesn't measure what it takes to love. Sometimes, we have to take a leap of faith, because some chances are once in a lifetime- everyone else could just swoop down and take those chances away. Sometimes when we wait, we'll regret it later on because what was lying in front of us just seconds ago could never be ours now.

Like you. Seven years ago, it was easy because you were the first to come closer. But now, I could never step up to you and come closer because somebody else will be doing it.

How I wish I was getting married next week.

But I'll only be watching from behind, possibly turning away when you kiss her. All I could do is say "Congratulations" although I don't mean it.

I can only look back and wish.

I am now the CEO of a world-renowned corporation- yet, unable to stop the wedding from happening. It's because I want you to be happy. That's the least I could do to atone for my mistakes.

I returned the invitation to the mailbox, sighing, chuckling, crying- all at the same time. That's when I heard a car pull up and I wiped my tears away. A familiar silhouette stepped out, and that's when I recognized…

You.

You smiled and hugged me, and that made me cry more- even if it's embarrassing, I don't care. You're all I need and that's enough.

You smiled at the open mailbox and bowed your head. My watery eyes were full of questions, and you looked back with a sigh.

You knelt down on one knee.

"Will you marry me?"

That's when I realized I was lucky to still have that boy from seven years ago.

"Don't wait for fifty years." – Claire from Letters to Juliet

\fin/