The Impossible Event.

~11~

5/5/15

I throw my electric blue bag on the bright red couch as I start jumping around like a retard.
All this insane amounts of happiness is because of the light green envelope in my hand. It's by Asim. I can barely contain my happiness as I twirl around, laughing like a maniac.

"She replied!" I think swirling around.

I carefully peal the envelope open, trying my best not to harm it.
There are a couple of ruled sheets stapled together, and a poster made by her.
I pretend to calm down as I slip onto the couch, and I pry open her letter, relinquishing every single moment.

I feel the smoothness of the paper interrupted by her amazing handwriting. "Asim wrote this!" I think as I continue fangirling.

I start reading her letter.

"Hello Ilta (:
Okay. First up, as soon as you get this, call me."

I wonder what is going on, and I ring her number.
"Hello" her bubbly voice makes her way across cities and states to reach me.
"Hi Asim. I just got your letter and you had-"

"Oh yay! You got it? Okay read it, I'll talk to you later." She replies and cuts the phone.

I stare at my phone in mystery and wonder what all this was about. I continue reading her letter, extremely confused now. "Maybe she was busy when I called her." I think to myself.

"Well I'll go now,
Bye Ilta.
[p.s. Do me a favor, and check your inbox.]"

I get my computer humming as Twenty One Pilots sing to me from my speakers. I wait for gmail to load, as I sing along with them.

My nerves were getting to me, and the page finally loads.

You have a new mail.
[5:15 p.m] Asim "I've been wanting to send this, but I never did."

I stare at it in shock. I've forgotten how to breathe. Oh my lord. She actually, actually, sent it.
I know it's the draft against my name. "She sent it to me." My brain chants continuously. She sent me her draft. The mail with all her suppressed emotions. She sent it to me.

"I know no one will get the importance of this moment", I think. But it's a huge part of my life. If she trusts me with the thoughts we usually censor, then I can't. I can't think anymore. She trusts me. Even if it's only to a certain level. She trusts me.

Me. Ilta.

People say that they trust you, but how many actually do? What if they can't trust you with something as basic as their thoughts? But we hide them the most anyway.

I love her so much. She. I can't even express myself. She trusts me. She trusts me.

And it's one of the most wonderful feelings in this entire world.