Resume of journal entry 4. Time stamp: 10:22:03AM

There are only two types of people in this world. Introverts and extroverts. And even after all this time, I can’t label myself as either.

I’ve met many people who I can safely assume they are either one or the other. For example, my mom is an introvert. Simply because she would rather stay home than go to parties. She gets very drained out and even cranky when coming home from a late party. 

However, my dad is the opposite. He loves interacting with people and playing soccer. There is never a dull moment with him when it involves being with me, my family, or with other people. He would rather pay for an expensive dinner with my whole family there than to have a coffee for dinner by himself.

I’ve had many classmates and friends during school who made it very clear what type of person they are. I respect all of them individually. 

But, I don’t know what I am. 

With more context, I don’t know if I’m an introvert or an extrovert. I love hanging out and messing with my family. Every time I see my mom, I can’t help but tease her. Or if I’m with my brother, I can’t help but grab him and slam him on the bed. I enjoy those things and it gives me energy just to see them. 

Yet, when I sit in school during class with me and my thoughts, I don’t struggle or itch for a new conversation. In fact, I feel fine. 

For four hours of my day, everyday, I spend it with myself. Why? In transportation, I don’t have friends coming with me to school nor leaving with me. I always arrive by myself and leave by myself. So in those times, I enjoy my solitude while watching others pass by me. 

But is that really being an introvert?

Watching others walk past and admiring that they’re together?

Or am I just coping with the fact that I can’t have what they share?

I don’t know. I never asked myself that. But if I had to choose a side. I would always label myself as… an extrovert.

“Uhhh.” came out of my mouth. “Hey.”

“Heyyy. What are you doing here?” She said, both cheerful and confused. Then, she gasped while giving me a smirking look. “Are you skipping?” 

“No? I was just making my way up here from the cafeteria.”

“Don’t worry Miles. I won’t tell anyone. Only if you give me a kiss.” she said, in a teasing tone.

Here she goes again.

“I swear, I’m not.”

Before asking her why she was here, I noticed she wasn’t properly attired. 

Where’s her backpack?

When the realization hit me, my face couldn’t help but show an expression of tasting a really sour candy.

“Your backpack!” I said loudly, out of realization.

She looked at me strangely before saying, “Oh yeah, I lost it. Hehe.” she told me while chuckling away from my sight.

“I mean, how could you lose it so easily?”

“Yeah I know, sorry.” 

She stood still while caressing her left arm up and down with her right hand. Looking at the floor in disappointment. 

Wait, is she mad because I called her out?

“I have a thing for forgetting things. It’s just something that’s become a part of my routine.” She said, walking towards me. 

“Really?” I said, watching her focus her eyes to the writings on the wall. 

“What do you mean by that ‘really’?” She asked.

“I mean, is it really that forgettable to forget something like your backpack?”

“Yeah.”

Hearing her response made me frown in confusion.

What? How can you forget something you need everyday? Let alone something that stays on your back most of the time. I thought while admiring her presence right next to me.

“Are you just saying that just because? Or are you actually being serious?” I asked.

I took a step down the steps to give her room to see the writing, while placing my backpack down.

“It’s not like I want to forget.” she says, touching one of the writings. “It just slips through my brain every time I try to grasp it.” 

She looks at me with a smile before sitting down on the steps. 

“I wish I had a better memory. So that I can remember all the good things that've ever happened to me.” She said, staring into my eyes. “But I'd rather have someone live a better life, than me having to remember that I could’ve helped them.” 

Oh no. Is she sick? I hope I didn’t make her feel bad or bring up a sensitive topic.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were being serious. You know, with all your teasing and stuff, I thought you were going to say another tease.” I said, scratching the back of my head out of anxiety.

She took a glance at one of the writings before standing up, now looking down at me.

“I know you didn’t mean it.” She said with an awfully calm tone. “You're not the type of guy to say that.”

“But.” I said, with a bit of frustration. “Why do you always say that? As if you know more about me than me?”

What the hell. Why am I asking her this?

Her eyes looked at me with a bit of hurt. Her face seemed disturbed, with no other way to feel.

“Oh I’m sorry.” I quickly said. “ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it in a bad tone. I was just curious. I’m sorry.” 

She smiled, but I already knew it wasn’t real. She’s putting up another fake expression to try to make me feel better. I know it.

“Don’t worry you're fine.”

“I think I should go. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad or anything. It wasn’t my intention.” 

I picked up my backpack and walked up the stairs, passing her.

“Hey! Why are you leaving?” She asked.

I didn’t want to answer her, since I didn’t really have an answer myself. But leaving her without an explanation would make me more of an asshole. So I said with an awkward smile,” I have to use the restroom.”

“Oh sorry.” She said with a startled tone.

“Yeah sorry.” I said, hurrying out the staircase.

I know I’m a coward.

I should’ve told her the truth.

 I don’t know why I blurted out that question. It was out of pure emotion. No logic or reasoning. My body just needed to ask her. It needed to know why she was so understanding.

After I went through the exit, I stopped by the staircase door, thinking about what I did. 

Why do I act like this? Like a guy who can’t own up to his own actions. 

I looked across the classroom in front of me. It was my math class. The class that I have next. 

Then I looked straight above me, the clock was ticking and pointing at 10:26 AM. 

I only have 4 minutes before the bell rings. And I’m wasting my time here, pouting.

I wanted to see her. I won’t lie, for the past few days of entering and leaving the school, I was hoping to run into her at least once. But it never happened and I walked into every class, thinking where she could be. 

I won’t say it drove me crazy not being able to see or find her, when switching from class to class. But, every time I would lay my head down during a lesson, I couldn’t rest like before. It was like my body couldn’t find peace without seeing her again. Almost as if she was my source of energy.

I need to go back. It was disrespectful of me to leave her alone.

As I faced the staircase doors, I thought, Wait, does she even want me there? I mean I just left her alone in a staircase. And she clearly sat there to talk to me. But did I make her feel bad?

With my usual thoughts flooding through my overworking brain, I took a step back from the door. 

I think the best call is to leave her alone. She probably didn’t even want to see me. She was more concerned about the writings.

I turned from the staircase and walked, without looking back. 

There are moments like these where I chose the fact that I lost. And this was one of those moments. I had already made up my mind.

She doesn’t want to see me. 

I was already walking away and forgetting about it. Even so, every step I took from the staircase was another squeeze in my chest. But it wasn’t from embarrassment or regret. It was more so because I was walking away from her. 

Why won’t this pain just leave me already?

My body keeps aching. I can't stop it.

I already failed. Don't you get it? 

I kept telling myself to let it go. To stop fighting for something that isn't for me. Out of my reach.

She has her life and I have mine. I have to respect that and leave her alone. Wanting her to spend most of her time with me is selfish. I'll only make it worse.

But it's what I wanted my body to think. In the end, I turned back around to the staircase and walked. Then speed walking. Then jogging. Then sprinting. Until I smashed through the doors, almost falling face first. 

Please still be here, please still be here.

I peeked to the staircase. 

"Oh." I said.

She sat at the same place. With the same smile when she first met me. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." I said, stepping back.

"Hi Miles, you're not interrupting. Did you want to pass down the staircase?" She asked me.

I looked at her. She seemed happy as her usual self. It always makes me warm every time I see her shining her joy at me. But I couldn't now. Not with him right next to her.