It's been always said that "it comes into three"… That's why when the love of my life leaves me; I tried start counting by 3. First, three days and apparently nothing happens, three weeks is still the same hurt feelings, then ironically after three months I felt deeply in love is like the more it sink in the thought that its gone the more I miss the more I love. The fact that DJ was the very first person that I was nervous to call mine, the first that I ever went for a date with alone, the first that I truly held hands with so good, the first true lover who captivate my very soul. That person was my first everything and the best part of me here in Thailand - 'til this time and all this time I knew I was still so obsessed, but I couldn't walk away and cauterize the wound. In situations like these, one thinks, I must be getting something out of it if I'm sticking around, even though it feels like it's killing me. Well, yes: I must. But human brains are terrible at weighing short-term vs. long-term incentives. The smile was the shortest-term of incentives, yet it was still the most powerful feeling in my life. I'm kind of amazed that I eventually managed to not to keep in touch with DJ from all the connections that electronically links us beyond the distance. I did my absolute best to stop sending a million messages, I'd distract myself and fill up my time by hanging out on my friend for support, make exciting quest and spent awesome night out at anywhere in BKK. Yet weeks later, I found myself holding my phone again platonically, trading jokes and watching its laugh, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach as I realized that watching DJ's smile—still—felt more fulfilling than anything else in the world. Today life seems to be so typical; nights and days loop in a minute. It's like yesterday when I just learn to Love and now I'm rationalizing like a loser. I wish I didn't get attached to people so easily, because then it gets harder for me to let them go. How many times I tried to ignore, to let go, to forget, not to care, not to think, not to long but, I honestly can't. Even if i get hurt and cry, my mind gets angry but my heart still cares. Being in love would never that easy; you can't be the person you really are.

But, one Friday, when I was walking on the school ground heading towards the English room when a student (not under me- P3) approached and gave a piece of paper. And that piece of paper touches me maybe something's awfully wrong with me that I acted differently. Maybe that little kid thought that earlier I was a kind of farang-teacher full of guts, determination and cause of teaching, recently, I was like a broken tape playing the loneliest music because of one person special is missing and unreachable. And that piece of paper made me realize that LIFE is too short to have no fun and yet too precious to waste…