If Only You Knew (Modified English Version)

TWO

 "Of all the things that is bright and beautiful, why does it have to be you?"

-Eullah

***

THERE WERE lines, dots, and other vector images drawn on the glass board. I'm in my second class this morning, and my new class is quite a bliss and simple. As I roam my eyes around, an art class consisting of a few students compared to the other classes is what I am in right now.

 Well, I guess that was already a given.

 
A middle-aged man was taking over one of my major art courses, and the professor was so focused on his discussion and my eyes could barely keep up in front. But I'm not listening in full ears.

 
Perhaps, some of what he said had been a lesson since my first year. And it looked more like a recap of my past studies in arts and design.

 
I blew a loud breath as I scribbled some notes on my seat close to the open glass window at the last row of desks.

 
"A set of dots connects the line or one way to define it could be as a point moving in space. As an element of art...."

Letting his words hit our minds and seeing how the class were just silently nodding in agreement made our professor go further to his topic.

 
And as I stared at the lines, I have begun to realize that it has something in common with what I feel right now. It is like what they say. There is certainly a thin line in everything that separates every two things. And just like how love and friendship are, an invisible boundary sets them apart from each other.

 
I couldn't help but bitterly smile at that thought. That line must be something that serves as a limit. Perhaps, that line between love and friendship tells us whether to risk it all or a red flag that, without a doubt, gives us a "warning" to stop.

 
Crossing those lines would mean losing one way or another. It's either you would be best of friends but cannot be lovers.

 
But why do people usually say that every little love also starts with every single friendship? And that it helps two people to strengthen their established bonds?

 
I frustratingly combed my hair with my fingers and shut my eyes sharply. Indeed, I'm not making any sense here. All these thoughts were so draining that I put my head down on my desk and sighed again.

 
Now, look how those lines had given me a headache.

"Are you sick, Ms. Balaguer? Or are you just sleeping in my class?" His questioning eyes were on me as my block mates turned their heads my way, waiting for me to stumble on my own words.
My hands were cold, and hoping he would not give me a deduction for spacing out during his class.

 
My body jerked up, and I answered quickly. "I-I'm sorry, sir. But I'm fine. Thanks." His squinting eyes did not leave me for a minute or two, maybe assessing if I was telling them the truth or not before he resumed what he was explaining in class.

 
That almost made me choke nervously. Thank God he wasn't so strict after all.

 
I heaved a sigh exasperatedly for the nth time. I let the time passed and behaved the way that I needed to. I don't want to be on someone else's wrong side, much worse, on my professor's side, more particularly. When the class ended, I slowly put everything on my tote bag and flattened my wrinkled clothes a bit using my hand.