As you grow up, you'll realize people will start changing. Not only the people, but almost everything will. Like what most of us say, nothing is permanent.

Even the water changes. It might be colorless most of the time, but you'll notice it when it becomes brownish or dirty.

You'll notice the taste changes from time to time too.

The things you usually did when you were young will not be the same anymore.

You'll begin to recall times when you used to tune in to your favorite song on your television's music channel. You'll miss the times when you still don't know how it feels to be truly sad.

Being young is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Yes, you might feel unhappy from time to time, but only for minor reasons, like not obtaining the chocolates you wanted or having your favorite toy break. But being young is so enjoyable that you'll miss it as an adult and yearn for the carefree sensation you had when you were younger. The sweetness of youth is similar to the sweetness of a lollipop that you eat when you are still a child, where no matter how sweet it is, as time passes, it melts, and in the end, the sweetness will just linger in your mouth, leaving you to wonder when you will taste the sweetness once more.

I witnessed people come and go.

I was there when my family was still happy and when my parents still loved each other.

I was also there when my parents separated.

My mother said that they had fallen out of love, but perhaps that is what she wants to believe so that she can choose another person because, as I know, it is not the same for my father.

Things changed, but his feelings didn't. He became miserable, but he's still stuck, and that's not a good thing. But all these years, there's a question that I can't seem to ask my father.

Why did he let go of my mom if he loved her dearly?

Is letting go really the only answer?

Thoughts came rushing into my mind as I stared out the window of the jeepney I was riding in.

Change. It suddenly popped into my mind when I saw a message from one of my friends asking me how I was doing these days.

She's a friend who studies in Manila. Aside from Dahlia, Tori is one of the people that I can also consider a friend. I just say Dahlia is my one and only friend, but Tori is also a dear one.

I remembered us three attending the same school in elementary and junior years. We were so inseparable as kids and teens going through puberty. But like what I am thinking, no matter how inseparable you are, there is the word change.

She attended senior high in her mother's hometown, and now in college, she lives in Manila. In the past, we always hung out and talked to each other, but now we barely hang out and talk since we are all busy at school and minding our own lives. We now have secrets that we didn't know about. My friends found a new set of friends, while here I am, contented with having them two while trying to deal with my issues in life.

But for me, even if you don't talk for such a long time, even if someone won't share everything with you now, it's fine as long as at the end of the day, you treat yourself as friends still. There was no awkwardness whatsoever.

Cool air blew, making my blue hair slightly disheveled. The wind sure is very good today.

I am riding a jeepney going home. Earlier, I went to the next hometown to buy something and alsotreat myself to something good.

I feel better these days. I don't know why.

I even bought a new top!

I looked outside to see vehicles passing by from time to time.

I even saw the driver touch his rosary that was hanging behind his rear view mirror when we passed by a chapel and saw him do some kind of signal I am not familiar with when another jeep passed. Is it a secret code or something between the drivers?

It's fascinating how people can communicate by doing such things.

I looked at the tote-bag in my lap. Why did I buy a lot of things?

When I noticed that I was near our house, I gathered all my things and signaled the driver to stop.

"Para po!"

I almost hit my head in the front when the driver stopped. I forgot I was sitting in the passenger seat!

Damn.

I waited for the kid who assists the driver to open the door for me.

I stepped outside and watched the jeep drive away before I fixed the things I was holding.

My father is still not home. It's been a month since he last came home. He just messages me from time to time.

I am fine alone though.

It's Friday again tomorrow.

I just want this week to be peaceful. I've had a lot of stress because of school deadlines, and luckily, we have no classes today because the professors had a meeting today.

Night came and I just cooked some instant noodles and went straight to my room to continue what I've been painting. I've been attempting to paint it for a week. This afternoon, after I came home, I tried painting it again, and luckily, it's now looking much better compared to the ones I did the past few days.

I am a little happy because this painting is slowly making progress. I still remember how many times I've messed up trying to paint it, restarting and failing again.

I stared at the canvas in front of me. I was painting what I'd drawn in my notebook a month ago when I accidentally hit Yuki. After I swam, I went back to the nipa hut and started drawing again while Yuki played in the water like a kid.

We stayed that way until maybe 6 pm before we parted ways.

After that unexpected day, we didn't really talk to each other again at school.

Or maybe I am the one who doesn't want to talk to him at school.

From time to time, when I see him on the campus, he tries to smile atme, but I just look at him in return. In our Friday classes, I sit in front near the window because Yuki always sits at the very back.

It's like nothing happened. Oh well, it’s better that way.

One more thing is that I found out that he’s my senior! He’s a third-year student from the same department.

I don’t know why he is retaking this class. Did he fail the subject last year?

The painting is 70% completed. It's the river, the tall trees, the setting sun, and other things.

It needs more details.

I used acrylic this time. Oil takes a lot of time to dry.

I looked at my notebook and went back to the canvas. Oh, here's the hard part again. I just hope I succeed this time.

I put down the bowl I'm holding and stretched my hands before I took my brush to start painting again.

"Okay, let's go."

The next day, I went to school feeling a little sleepy. I was so immersed in painting that I didn’t notice that it was already 4 a.m.

I went to the campus around 8 am to try to get a little nap.

There are still a few people in our classroom since it’s still early, so I put my bag on my desk so I can use it as a pillow.

I was napping peacefully when I heard someone calling my name.

"Kaia."

I frowned because of that.

What time is it?

It's already quite noisy here. Is it already 9 a.m.?

I opened my eyes and looked around me. A lot of my classmates are now here.

I've been sleeping for how long?

"Kaia."

I heard someone call my name again. I looked in front of me only to see Yuki standing. I was shocked because of that.

Why is he suddenly approaching me?

"Do you have an answer to our homework?"

What?