A Story

There are stories that are too brilliant not to be told, but to tell you frankly, I'm starting to doubt if mine's remotely significant. This chapter that I'd like to think I recently closed, the chapter of having finished one year in law school, was both unremarkable and exciting, personal but a bit boring.

It's like every other law school story, I think. You come in quite unprepared, and when you linger long enough your doubts and insecurities start creeping in. From nowhere, because you didn't think you even had them in the first place.

And so you start looking for blind comfort from other people, from men who don't quite understand. And you start investing in short-lived relationships, fully knowing from the start that they will not last long.

But this particular story is neither about short-lived relationships nor about insecurities. Not exclusively, at least.

It's about the pleasant and unexpected surprise of finding someone who actually stayed through. Someone who crushed the cliche of temporal relationships. It's about finding you, knowing a bit more about me, and loving each other through and through. It's a story that gets real cheesy and sappy, a story I'd love to tell, but they contain secrets far too insignificant yet dangerous to tell.