I don’t know why but I know the stories I wrote are not mine, am I right? I’ve been waiting for a long time just to see you again. Are you a writer? You probably know I stopped writing for a long time. I quickly wrote this to remember what I did when I was in your body. I woke up as usual but it seems you’re somewhere else now. I couldn’t tell if you’re still in France because the people spoke in English fluently. Perhaps, you must be back in America? Strange enough, I still can’t recall the names of the places but I can tell from the scenery. News friends, new faces, new places and a new experience. I forgot how to jump and for a brief moment, we actually saw each other in there did we? Are you always in a one-piece dress? You look much more beautiful now. I know my dreams are not dreams but your life. I thought you were a ghost and have been reminding myself so.
I wrote my name on your table last night. It seems you wrote yours as well. I guess it wasn’t just a dream. I keep chasing after you and that’s honest. It’s really not fair that you can jump between this connection and I can merely ride along. Don’t jump when you need me or when you want to escape from your own problems. I gave up, remember? You did too. You never came. I know already why you never came. We live in different times, don’t we? I remember, I was 18 when I first saw you. Were you older than me? I guess I won’t find out since you’re secretive with this kind of details. I noticed the time we’re in is different because of the atmosphere. I couldn’t tell if that was the future or the past, my dreams won’t allow me to go pass through that obstacle.
You want to know something? I forgot to mention that I can leap through time. You might have the ability to jump between bodies but I… I tried my best to save you. I keep going to the same place to save you and each time I successfully did, you end up gone anyway. I leaped even further but before I could reach you, our bodies switched places. Perhaps it only works if I’m in my own body.
I remember the first time we really met, you were much older than I expected and I was 21. Were you younger when we first talked? Unfortunately, you didn’t recognize me. I travelled all the way to New Orleans to see you. You told me you would be there but I didn’t expect a younger version of you. It gets hazy as I continue writing. I try my best to recall whatever that has happened. You told me via the paragraphs you wrote in my notebook that we met during your time. I don’t know how this works but it seems I didn’t recognize you. Do I look that much different? Was I bald or fat or stressed out? All you wrote was ‘not happy’. So not fair. You wouldn’t tell me how my future is.
I tried leaping again. I always try. I just get tired from reliving the same events. I slowed down my leaping. I even stop using it to get good grades for my exam. I let time flow by itself now. I stop using it to my advantage to ask girls out on dates and just let my confidence get the better of me. Ah! At this point is where I stop seeing you. You never bothered to visit me in our secret place. I hate you - love you - hate you - I… don’t know. I told you I would be in Thailand for a month. Somehow, we never got the chance to meet but I know, you’re there. I feel you and so do you. Our timeline is the problem. Sometimes tears just control my eyes. I can’t help myself because I know how this would end. I tried remember? But how would you know. I never told you.
Write back to me. Tell me. I know you can read this Claudia.
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