By Kimi Bulos

I still remember that one day we were at the playground. You were on the swings, its hinges
frostbitten from the cold, rhythmic creaks in the midnight sky. I was sitting on the ground, tiny
heads of daisies peeking out the melting frost and shielding a tiny ant from the world above. We
sat together, and chatted the night away—and for once, it felt like we were the only ones in the
world.
The question came out of nowhere. It caught me by surprise—you never say these things. You
asked me, “Where do you see yourself in the future?”
I remember chuckling and quipping with some dumb retort. The swings shrieked while you
cried of your exhaustion of my antics, and I screamed for you to stop the wretched noise. Our
laughs rang through the night sky, and though the cold was pinching my skin, I wanted to stay
there forever.
But forever never lasts, and I soon found myself on the swings in your place. However, you
didn’t take mine on the frosted grass. It was just me, and the soft creaking.
I remembered what you asked me back then. Where did I see myself in the future?
Well, I should’ve said I saw it with you. You and your hair as dark as midnight, that always
reflected the moon. Your sunken eyes, almost cat-like, interrupted the rhythm of my heart every
time you glanced at me. Your battered-up sneakers, brown with use and with their soles half
off—I always told you to change them, but you never listened. I wonder if you’re still wearing
them now; or if you changed them, so I’d stay a memory in your mind.
When people talk about heartbreak, I’d always scoff and roll my eyes. You’d agree and throw
your head back in laughter. “Is this what people worry about?” you’d ask and I’d grin. Now I
wish I could turn back time and tear that smug smile off my face. To break my facade and tell
you what I really wanted to say, to shout, to scream, to tell, yet I was a fool, the biggest one I’ve
ever known. Like a swan without its mate, this infinite void in my heart is like a thirst in my soul
that needs to be quenched, a warmth in the cold that I’ll never feel. I’ve been suffocating on land,
and every time I’m in a room full of people, it feels like I’m the only one there.
It’s embarrassing to admit that a part of who I am was you. Even with your snarky remarks to
my comments, or the way you’d crinkle your nose every time I opened my mouth—you seemed
so annoyed and fed up; yet you’d stay. Calling your name is something I loved to say, now it is
something I hate. We called each other the strongest duo; but without you that title is
meaningless to say.
I hop off the swings and let it sway behind me. I accept you’ll only be my past; and so I left the
playground where we once danced, and along it, my naive teenage dreams of being with you.

Kimi is a high school student from the Philippines who dreads growing up. She loves romanticizing just about anything and imagining angsty scenarios before sleeping. Writing is her version of free therapy and a way to make reality a little more bearable.