In December, on some cold and rainy days. I was sitting on dusty shelves at a kind of old store. I see people enter and leave the store every day. Until she came with her mother. She was consulting me. she said, mum! I want this one. And here is my story begins. Hey!! I am Eddie. I am just a teddy bear in the human world. I will not forget that day when I arrived at Charlie's home. It was a home of lovely family. It was a family of four members. Charlie, Rachel, jake and Lydia. I was sitting at Lydia's room. She was taking me whenever she is going. Her room was utterly cozy especially her soft blanket. One day, I was with Lydia in the garden. There was a snow crystal that was falling down on her slowly. Until I heard a voice that saying out loud, Lydia!! Come here the dinner is ready! I observed something when we got into home. There was a beautiful smell of fresh bread coming from the kitchen. I was sitting with Lydia and her family. They were eating and having fun. The vibrations emanating from their chests were unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. Their eyes seemed to sparkle with a joyful energy I couldn't quite comprehend. After dinner, everyone went to bed because Lydia and jake have to go to school tomorrow. In Lydia's room there were posters everywhere on walls she was hanging a vision board with her goals and dreams. She wants to be an astronomer. She was spending hours researching astronomy and discussing theories with enthusiasm. She always loved learning things about space and universe. And she always wondered if there is another earth in other galaxies that humans live in or not. In the next day I was sitting on the sofa, and I suddenly I saw a dog running towards me, but he was cute. Charlies' family was having a pet which is a lovely dog. Rachel always loved her dog. She was very kind to him and played with him. After Lydia and jake came from school they ate lunch with the family and after that they headed in their rooms. Lydia had a great skills and hobbies. Lydia's fingers danced across the canvas; her eyes focused intently on the masterpiece taking shape. I love the way she can draw and the way she holds her pencil, her vibrant colors of her drawings and being creative at her drawings. At once she decided to draw me and it was absolutely beautiful! At night the family decided to go out to smell some fresh air and engaging in joyful revelry. And of course, Lydia took me with her. I was surprised when I saw the streets and people. I saw other families, couples, friends and diversity in relationships and all of them were Facinating. They went to a place to drink something hot to keep them warm. Lydia took hot chocolate. I loved the smell of hot coco and how Lydia was holding the cup with her hands to keep herself warmer. On our way back home. It was raining. Everyone was running and holds an umbrella. But I was enjoying the smell of rain when it hits the dusty roads. After years everything changed. I observed Lydia and jake growing. It was magical thing for me to see someone I live with grows in front of my eyes. It was Lydia's the seventeen birthdays. Her family was organizing everything to surprise her, and they invited her friends. Lydia was out and when she came, they surprised her saying. Happy birthday!! She was very happy with the gifts, but I felt that there something wrong with her and I was right. When the birthday ends, and everyone left. She was sitting in her room, and she was sad because her best friend didn't come. It was my first time to see Lydia sad like this way. I figured that the absence of a loved one, even for a seemingly trivial reason, can cause significant emotional distress. But after this sadness her best friend call her, and she explained why she didn't come. And after this call her spirit had raised honestly. And she suddenly hugged me. There was a warmth of this hug. Jake always loved playing guitar. He was playing it since he was 11 years, jake was having a competition of playing guitar. He was very nervous because he trained for this competition very hard, and it meant a lot to him. His family went to the competition with jake to encourage him. When we arrived, he was nervous because he was fearing from failure. But Charlie tried to calm him down saying, “there is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure! After these words jake has encouraged and he played confidently. He was amazing playing this guitar. And he won the first place! He deserved it. From the dusty shelves to the heart of a home. I've witnessed life unfold in its myriad hues. Joy, sorrow, hope, and fear - a tapestry woven with every human thread. In Lydia's laughter and tears, in Jake's triumphs and anxieties, I've glimpsed the depth and complexity of the human soul. Though I am but an inanimate object, I carry within me the echoes of their lives, a testament to the extraordinary nature of being human.

1- My 1- love 2- for you 3- has kept growing, 5- continues soaring to new heights, 8- and will never stop expanding to galactic scales. 13- As the Fibonacci sequence tends to infinity, so does my love encompass eternity. I could read his letter repeatedly and still wonder how his words are reflected in his actions. We have been romantically together for almost two years now, yet I keep falling in love with him every single day. I never thought that I would feel this kind of love in my whole life- a love that's selfless, worth fighting for, inspiring, something that teaches me to be a better person everyday. A great blessing that I consider is to have that love be reciprocated and even more. I am writing this short story for us. Someday, we may go back to this page and be reminded of our beautiful love that I believe is worth a story to tell. Our story begins in a simple first meeting at a McDonald's branch in Kraków, Poland, 2016. We were Erasmus Mundus masters students back then. My fellow Filipino classmates, who happened to be his former workmates in the Philippines, introduced us to each other as we all decided to travel and explore some European cities together on that Christmas school break. It was only a week-long trip, yet a memorable one. A trip with fellow Filipinos is always an enjoyable one- sharing jokes, laughter, meals and even money, and not worrying about any cultural differences. I got to know him as a friend of my friends, but not yet to a personal and up-close level. We haven't contacted each other again after that Poland trip, until some time in 2018 when our Filipino group planned another trip together again. This time, it was in Switzerland. Such a nice trip and great company, wandering in the green pastures and picturesque Swiss cities. We talked, but again not to a personal and up-close level yet- maybe we really didn't think about each other nor we consider ourselves friends when we are not travelling together. Anyway, how I loved my experiences as an Erasmus Mundus student. Little did I know that through this scholarship grant, I would get to know the person whom I will love for the rest of my life. We had another travel experience together, in 2020, after the lockdown, when we visited our common friend in Germany at the same time. We were not Erasmus Mundus masters students anymore in 2020, rather we were 2nd year PhD students in our own fields. I would say that it is in this travel where we got more comfortable with each other. We started talking on casually like good friends, sharing stories and experiences back when we were still in the Philippines before our master studies, drinking beers together, and talking about PhD lives. It is in these travel that I sensed how true and kind person he is. He loves his family. He always stands for what is right and just. He values education. After 2 years, we met again in Germany. This time, he has just finished his PhD and just started in his first job in Europe. Yet he was the same humble man I got to know better in 2022. As for my status, I haven't finished my studies at that time. I had just resigned from my work contract as a PhD student, and found my first job in Europe as well. I was so down with my PhD that I had to quit it and moved to a new country. I was suffering from mental and emotional challenges and all I wanted was to start a new life somewhere, alone, and far away from my PhD life. I have worked so hard for in the past 3 years, yet somehow I was not able to manage well and ended up feeling I have not accomplished anything. We met in Germany, we started to talk more often as we are sharing experiences in moving in to a new country and starting our first jobs in the industry. I was able to share to him why I had to quit my PhD studies, but little did I know that he was so concerned with me. He truly understood what I had to go through, yet he wanted to motivate me again. He didn't want me to just give up my PhD. He knew perfectly all the struggles, yet he still believed in me. During those times, he encouraged me to keep fighting. I explained to him that I was having anxiety and depression with finalizing my PhD and it was a hard time for me. There were time when he would remind me of my Chemistry knowledge in order to explain my analytical results, read my discussions and comment on them, and asked me practice questions in preparation for my defence to the examination board. He guided me until I was able to pick myself up again. Fast forward, I finished my PhD in 2023 with flying colours, and we are still together in Germany, working in our same respective companies, and living our lives together in the best possible ways we can, and always with smiles in our faces. To love, to inspire, to motivate, to keep learning- these are, I think, the greatest lessons I'm learning from him since then and until our lives remain.

Rae stood on the threshold, peering down into the eyes of her beloved dog, the dog she had adopted one year ago and promised to love forever. His eyes broke her heart. He knew she was hurting. He knew she was leaving - and that almost tempted her to stay - again. She wished she could make him understand why. “Why does this feel like you're leaving for good?” her fiancé asked her. Because it is, she didn't answer out loud. She offered a weak smile through her tears and kissed him one last time. “I'll see you in a week,” she lied, and closed the door behind her. With her head held high and fists clenched, she silently got in her car and backed out of the driveway. It wasn't until she was around the corner that she let the sobs escape. Once released, they came forth in violent waves – months and months of heartache, frustration, anger, despair, anxiety, depression, confusion, fear, grief. She cried so hard she gasped for breath and her tears blurred her vision, but she couldn't stop - not this time. She had to keep going. She had turned around so many times before. It had to be for real this time. Episodes from their 14 years together replayed in her mind – scenes she'd replayed over and over again, analyzing every harsh word exchanged, wondering for the millionth time if she had over-reacted. But even if she had, did his words and actions have to make her feel so horrible? She'd let it slide for 14 years. She'd made up excuses for him – he'd been neglected by his father and bullied by peers, so it made sense that he always had to be right, that he was constantly trying to prove himself. She could forgive that. She could forgive his bossiness, his need to be in control, his double standards. She could forgive that he sucked at romance and thoughtful gifts. She could forgive a lot of things, and she had, for a long, long time. But then they bought a house, and got a dog, and they both had careers they loved, and she'd asked him (again) if they could get married…and he said no. That's when she finally started to realize that there would always be excuses, because he was a controlling, emotionally abusive, narcissistic asshole. That's when Rae had come to the incredibly painful realization that she had to leave. She had to somehow let go of the last 14 years of her life and find a way to move forward on her own, no matter how terrifying it might be. An hour later she arrived at her cousin's, who greeted her with a kind hug and showed her to the spare bedroom. A twin air mattress and small table had been set up in between the closet and the rabbit cage. This was going to be her living space for the next several months. Deciding to embrace it, Rae set down her luggage and drove across the street to the Walmart to pick out some bedding. Standing there in the aisle, viewing all the options, she couldn't help but smile. Is this what freedom felt like? She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to the store by herself, let alone picked out something she wanted, without his opinions and insults of her tastes, and his disgusting misuse of the word “compromise". There had never been any compromising with him – it had just been him convincing her why his idea was better. Nothing had ever been good enough for him if he wasn't the one to make the decision. Selecting a blue and purple sheet set and a small lamp, Rae made her way to the check out with a little skip in her step. Back at her cousin's apartment, she reflected on how amazing it felt to actually have a space to call her own - just hers. She realized that this feeling she was experiencing - this feeling of inner peace and safety, of self-expression - was what she had been missing for so long. Was it the absence of this feeling that had driven her to therapy and antidepressants? Was it really as simple as just having your own space? Rae didn't sleep that night. She was too anxious; excited for the new sense of freedom and positive experiences that lay before her, but also dreading the grief and despair she knew she would have to endure in order to heal and move on. A few days later, she drove two hours to the airport. She parked her car in the long-term parking lot and boarded a shuttle. She checked in for her flight, received her ticket, and found her way to her gate. All by herself. After boarding the plane and finding her window seat, she sent a selfie to a friend. They responded, “You look happy.” Gazing out the window, Rae realized that she was, in fact, happy. Deeply, authentically happy. More than that, she knew that this was the first of many amazing adventures she was going to take herself on. She was a strong, amazing, independent woman, and she was going to be okay.

I look over the students one at a time: there sits the one with yellow blouse, long dark hair, there the two (seem to be intimate friends) one with yellow short hair, blue eyes, with a short with a knot and the one with black curly hair with imposed facial expression, engaged in an animated conversation in low tone, looking over me once in a while. With Black hair, like a straw, and an oddly matched blouse and a skirt, I feel intimidated inside ‘will i ever get to be friends with them?'. Part of me propels me to think so, because it craved for such friendship so long after the lockdown. My storming thoughts are fueled by Tim – our English teacher at this education center – as well as the founder, leaving me with the question ‘Will I ever get to be a good student of his?'. ‘I'm not coming for the next lesson' I say, with fear piercing through my mind. ‘I wanted to try out another education center, but if I don't like it, can I come back?' Maybe because I was trying my best to be a responsible, honest, and loyal student, or maybe because I expected him to confirm that he is okay with that because he is sure of the quality of education he is providing for students, I was struck when he said ‘no' that easily. ‘You can go, but then you have to leave, we don't take back students who left us'. While part of me grew outrageous for his unfair and biased judgment, I couldn't resist the fear of losing a teacher, even if he doesn't seem to be promising. ‘Why not?' I go on. ‘Because this is how it works'. I had sort of promised myself not to expect anything from anyone after my big disappointment from my other education center teacher, whom I overly respected, who I saw as one of the closest people to myself that I expected him to care about. At least I was his best student before quarantine. At least he had taught me for 2 years. At least for the sake of all the laughter and jokes we shared with my groupmates and that teacher. But when the quarantine started, when my world turned upside down, I realized that it was all my fantasy – a teacher caring for a student. It was only after I fought with my bias and realized that a teacher is just a teacher and a student is just a student – expect no more, and if you don't pay, you're now not even a student, you're an outsider. Therefore I had sort of promised myself not to expect anything from any teacher other than just the lesson, but still the easiness that that ‘no' came with once hit me hard, extinguishing my last bit of hope towards intimacy, kindness, and caring for others. As I go home, I nail to myself over and over again my father's words “in this world, nobody but your family (parents, grandparents and siblings), cares for you”. ‘Well, maybe this is becoming strong – you accept there is nothing like proximity, kindness, and care in your relationships with others''. I was totally tired. Tired of believing in the existence of love of teachers, friends, other than family members. I accepted. In this world, everybody is for themselves. This black and white is what the world is. I learned to be cold and keep the distance with others all the time. Until I met my other English teacher, who is now a motherly figure for me. She melted the ice in my heart and convinced me that we're not just teacher and student in the classroom and strangers outside it, but we remain teacher and student anytime, anywhere, and in any case. She convinced me that I could actually turn to my teachers, friends, not just my family when tough times come. I was hesitant as to her intimacy in the beginning after it all happened. But over her closeness with her other students, caring for them like their mother, and trying to bond the students and make them like siblings, I felt love, care, and kindness. The image that my father described, my experience with previous teachers echoed, the one that is black and white became full of color – vibrant colors. Today, I look back and always try to remind myself, when I'm struggling with my academics, that there is love, care, and kindness; life is not just black and white. True, not everyone can paint it, but that doesn't necessarily mean people who can bring colour don't exist. They do, you just need to keep believing in and meeting them someday.

Warning: Depictions of self-harm. Readers discretion is advised. Harvey's music blasted from his laptop, causing everything on his desk to vibrate. His pens and keys shook against the commanding sound waves, which jumped from its epicenter like an earthquake. He had turned the basement of his rental house into a DJ club. He was surprised a neighbor hadn't come banging on his door yet with fire in their eyes, asking him to shut it. “I ain't no therapist, but ya'll got the gist!” He sang the lyrics to his song even louder. It was a Thursday evening, and tomorrow was going to be his debut as a DJ at a local bar. There was no choice but to erupt his basement into an eardrum-smashing destruction - practice was all that filled his mind. The next verse featured a harsh rap which Harvey chanted along: “Money, cash, bank, the coins are in my fanny! Ya'll fuckin' mofos want empty hands, saying love, love love!” The music then spun into a dubstep-style track for a half minute, until the next verse arrived: “Ain't no fuckas saying no to ya'll dimes, just buy them bitches before they mine! Love ain't real, ya mental shit only wants to feel-” Cling! Harvey twitched and stopped his rap abruptly, startled by the loud clang below him which pierced his ear, even through his rowdy music. He directed his gaze below the table at the source of the noise. His lucky penny, which dropped to the concrete floor of his basement thanks to the loud vibrations of his table, was finishing its twirl before flattening. Face-up was heads instead of tails. “God dammit, can't believe I lost my groove just ‘cause of a coin,” Harvey muttered, and paused his music. He bent down to pick his penny up under the table. And that's when he heard it. Not the sound of his music; not the clinging of his coin. It was a faint rumble from upstairs in the house. Harvey glanced up to the ragged ceiling of his basement, pretending to see through the wood. His own music still echoed in his ear, making it hard to tell if he was only hallucinating. He looked back at the coin, peering at its shiny heads surface. It reminded him of a certain conversation he had with his housemate, Samuel, just a few days ago. “Dude, what if I told you I'd off myself based on the flip of a coin?” Samuel asked while sipping a beer next to his friend at their dining table. “The fuck? You're messed in the head, my guy,” Harvey replied, putting his can down and raising his eyebrows to his friend's weird statement. “Then the coin better land as a tails. You gotta support me for Friday night's party, it's my DJ debut!” “Haha, true that.” Harvey's eyes glared at the penny for only another second before a dark feeling of unease filled him to the brim. Samuel had never made such a joke before during the three years he knew him. Wait, he can't be ser-! Before the thought fully passed through his mind, his body moved before his brain. Without picking the coin up, Harvey dashed down the hallway to the stairs of his basement. He leaped a few steps up and reached the first floor of his house without issue. That was when the rumbling noise from one more floor above had become real. There was shaking between the walls, yet no footsteps bounced into his ear. “Shit!” he gasped. He ran to the next staircase, and flung himself up to the top floor of his house. In front of him was the door to his housemate's room. Grabbing the doorknob, Harvey gritted his teeth when it wouldn't open. “You fucking idiot!” he screamed and clenched both his hands into stone to brace for impact, and readied the kick of his life. His body flung at the door, shoe first at the knob, and he jumped as if delivering a karate hit. Thump! He watched the knob cave into the cracked wood, until splinters emerged. Finally, on the fifth attempt - Thwack! - the knob fell through the crack of broken timber, and Harvey barged into his friend's room. He reached to the back of his pants for his pocket knife - a small Swiss Army blade which featured multiple tools - and glanced desperately around for the silent Samuel. After performing a three-sixty, his eyes landed on - The closet! Harvey gulped. With his head covered in sweat, goosebumps devouring his skin, and every limb jittering, he swung open the sliding door to Samuel's closet. “Fucking hell.” The sight of his unconscious friend, hanging on a rather thin rope tied into a noose, was almost enough to give him a heart attack. Instead, his chest sank like a ship, and his hands twitched while reaching for the rope to cut it. With every back-and-forth movement of his knife, the tears around Harvey's eyes grew. By the time his friend dropped to the floor, those tears had already trickled down his cheeks. “Wake up, please, I'm begging you!” He dragged the fainted Samuel out of the closet, laid him on his back, and began performing CPR on both his chest and his mouth. After what felt like forever, Samuel's eyes slowly opened.

Quiet. That was it. It was Quiet. Laying on the soft grass side by side was all they needed. They didn't need anybody else, not their parents, not their siblings or friends. All they needed was each other even if no words were exchanged. The peaceful lulling sound of the nature around them was enough noise for them.Honestly, noise was overrated. There was no need for constant noise. Sometimes the sound of silence was enough, and that's what those girls all by themselves on the cushioning green grass with the sunsetting all around them needed. Silence. Sometimes silence can speak louder than words ever could, for instance right now these young teen girls don't need to verbally say “I love you” they could just lay there in each other's embrace watching the world change in front of their eyes in silence and those words were all they needed.It's quite similar to how animals express themselves to us. For example when a cat or dog is upset or angry at you they scratch or bite. When a cat or dog is happy and wants to show attention to their owner or another animal they rub up against them and or lick or lay with them, similar to how those girls are laying and just enjoying the moment together.The sunset that they seemed to be so mesmerized by had beautiful shades of orange, red, pink and purple. It was a beautiful sight, no wonder they chose the spot they are now relaxing at.They have been laying there for hours on end not a single word spoken, the warm summer air swirling around them and the birds singing It was so peaceful. It was moments like these that would forever stay a memory in both of their amazing minds. It was memories like these that they would tell their future children.People are always talking about how they visited all the great man made wonders of the world but sometimes the best man made wonders are the places no one sees. Like a special spot in a forest somewhere where there is a small gap in the trees where the moon shines through or its a place on the grass where you spent hours sunset watching and stargazing with your lover, sometimes those are the best man made memories.And that's what they did. They made their own man made memories like I like to call it.They did eventually leave but that did not mean that the memory making ends no memory making is constant, even a walk down a deserted, quiet street with only the street lights and the warmth of the other to keep them company it wasn't as scary as I made it seem but it was soothing. The barley lit street with each other's warmth was all they needed. They didn't a blanket or hand warmers because one hands are natural hand warmers and because all they needed was each other to keep them warm. Even the little kiss goodnight when they reach one of their houses promising to see them the next day and finishing with an I love you because all they needed were some kind words so they could fall into a deep sleep.The morning strolls through the park only to end up sitting on a bench feeding the birds was only one of the things they did after that night. They took those night gazing nights they took the sunset watching in the grass they took those little walks in the street, they took those little goodbyes each night and each and every one of those memories were stored.All they needed were those tiny memories that may seem useless and unnecessary to anyone else but them. It didn't matter to them if people thought that about their memories it was theirs to make and theirs to look back at.All they needed were to keep to themselves and those who had opinions that did not matter to stay away and do what they wanted with their lives.These memories were precious to them and all they needed was to keep them forever and continue making more.That's what they did. They made much more memories never needing to stop because who would want to stop making memories? They went skating, went to the zoo.They did things that they would have never done before they met teacher but now that they have all they needed was each other to conquer their fears and one by one the did so many unique things things even I the narrator wouldn't even dream of doing, but they did it together and nothing could stop them day and night they conquered and dreamed all of it .They took over the world just the two of them and nothing could separate them, not even an earth ending event. All they needed was each other to help them out of their shells that they had built to stop the world from breaking them but now they have each other to fight back the problematic world. All they needed was each other to stop the judgy people, the strange looks, the global warming all of the wrong things that have tried to bring them down individually now have no chance against them together for they are ten times stronger together even without words even with people trying to break them down but even with all that going on. All they needed was each other. Please Enjoy! Art by me

As a child, I would spend every summer vacation in Beijing. Every morning, I would wake up to my grandparents announcing the arrival of breakfast from the local farmer's market. “妞妞,” they would say softly. “We brought breakfast!” I would wake up every morning to the smell of delicious food and their beaming faces, arms adorned in plastic bags. There would always be tea eggs: Glorious, salty, delicious bombs of goodness encased in a cracked shell with brining liquid nestled comfortably in its crevices. I feel my mouth watering as I envision biting into the tender egg white, browned by a potion of soy sauce and tea leaves, my teeth sinking into the golden sun, the center of this eggy universe. My grandmother's (姥姥） love language was food. I distinctly remember her chasing me with a mantou in hand, calling, “Just one more bite!” She always reminded me to eat more, as I was a picky eater as a child, and at dinner time, my rice bowl would inexplicably refill every time I looked away. I pretended not to notice. It's been eight years since 姥姥 passed. Yesterday, I had tea eggs for breakfast. As I brought one to my mouth, I felt my throat clench up. I feel guilty about enjoying this treat without her. But then I remembered her reminders for me to eat more la, and I know that she would've wanted me to eat it. I swallowed the egg with difficulty as tears rolled down my cheeks. But I couldn't tell if they were tears of joy or sadness.

August was always one of my least favorite months. It was hot, sticky, and there were bugs everywhere. I wasn't an outdoorsy person, or very social. I would spend my summer days in the house, with the air conditioning and a book in my hand. I would spend my summer nights the same way, although I would trade the book for a movie, or some music. I had 5 siblings, all younger, though there were times they made me want to rip my hair out. I can't help but adore the feeling of having people to protect, I love having people who need me. Earlier in the year, I had found out my mother was pregnant with another baby for me to protect. I spent time thinking about all the ways I would love this baby, thinking about who it would grow up to be. I watched as people bought clothes, as we prepped what having a baby would be like in the middle of the pandemic, and how naming it somehow became the hardest task. In the middle of the night, on August 9th, the baby finally came. I was woken up by my grandmother the next morning, she woke me up with such excitement in her voice, and tons of pictures of the little newborn. My mother and step father had decided to name her Kenza, which is funny because up until that night, it wasn't even top 3. I hadn't seen my mom all day, and my impression of the baby came in poorly taken pictures and the occasional video. Due to the covid restrictions, I was unable to visit her. I had never felt such impatience in my life, I was like a child watching their mother unwrap a lollipop, I was like a road trip passenger, waiting for a rest stop. My heart was beating, I was stressed and all that kept me going were those poorly taken pictures. My stepdad was in and out of the house, giving us status reports and trying to keep our mind off it, but his efforts did not work, my mother was in the hospital for about 3 days before coming home, for 16 year old me, that was a lifetime of torture. I wanted to hold my baby sister, and kiss her, and show her off on social media. I wanted to sing her lullabies at night and to be the first one to make her laugh. When she finally arrived, the house was decorated for her arrival. Thanks to mine and my grandmother's efforts, there were signs on the doors and homemade pictures hanging on the walls. We had given the house a welcoming touch, which was something it rarely had. I was one of the first people to hold her, and I felt an immediate connection. It hit me on that day that August 9th would always be important. Along with November 11th, April 28, March 3rd, October 8th and November 14th, August 9th would go on the list of days the number changed. It became one of the days I would cherish and celebrate, because it gave me one more person to love and protect. It gave me a new piece of my heart and it became unforgettable. With that day approaching, and the time coming to celebrate the aging of my last sibling, it's hard not to get teary eyed or emotional, this is the last of them, the last time I will be able to say “my baby sister's one” or “ wow she isnt a baby anymore,” those have been replaced with “you're almost as tall as me!” and “look at how much you've grown” I used to hate August, I hated the heart, and the stickiness and all the bugs. But it's become one of my favorite months, one of my most beloved times of the year, and all becaused it changed a simple number.

It's the first thing I see when I sink my toes into the warm sand of the beach in Cancun. Not the children I hear splashing around on the beach nor the shutters of a camera, coming to life with a startling burst that only lasts for a second. But the crash of the waves. The shimmering hues of blues and greens that bleed into each other seamlessly, extending outward in a never-ending path towards the horizon. Every inch of it basking in the sunlight. ‘The ocean.' It's breathtaking, and I can't help but gasp as I stare at it, the sight unreal as I take it all in. I've never felt so eager to do anything as I'm feeling now, wanting to jump into it's depths and let the ocean take me wherever it wants to go. So I leave my parents behind and run towards the lapping water of the ocean, tossing my slippers into the air and jumping into it. It's a magical moment, falling into the ocean's embrace. Feeling the pressure of the water as it greets me with a cold kiss. For the past two years the only body of water I'd seen was the pool that my mother and I used to go and swim at every week. But it was never the same. It was too calm, lacking the ferocity of the ocean that I'd cherished. ‘I missed you.' I surface out of the ocean, pulling out of its embrace. I feel the salty water trailing down my face as if wanting me to dunk my face back in. ‘Patience, I just need a breath.' But as I look ahead of me and see a series of waves rolling out towards me, I know that patience is the last thing on the ocean's mind. I smile. ‘I guess you don't think I've got the guts, ocean.' And so despite my father's yells to stay with him, I swim further and further from shore, a slave to the call of the ocean as it beckons me into its depths. ‘I want to go further.' It's like a rollercoaster as the waves lift me and I feel a rush of exhilaration as I let the ocean drag me into its depths. ‘I wouldn't mind if you just took me with you and made me yours.' But I quell this desire as I think about my parents. The future ahead of me. The ocean is one of those things that makes me forget everything around me, which is often why I have to remind myself to remember. The pain of my past vanquishing as soon as I set my eyes on it. The desire to dissolve in it as I relish it's presence, the feel of the cool water like a caress. ‘I've never felt so envious of salt.' And despite the fact that the ocean has taken countless people's lives, those that had made the mistake to succumb to its lull, it's one of those things that I would willingly leave everything to be beside every moment of my life. ‘I'm in love with the ferocity of the ocean.' I don't know very much about it, but I'm in love with every inch of it from the depths of my heart. And I've always had the desire to reach the bottom of it. To greet a humpback angler fish or a fang tooth. To see those beautiful and fascinating underwater creatures that everyone else calls terrifying. But how can we judge if when we haven't even met these creatures? It's kind of like how humans tend to view everything through a biased frame, one devoid of love or acceptance. But that's what I love about the ocean. Because unlike how Uranus banished the Giants, the ocean is accepting and generous to the creatures it gives home to, regardless of their characteristics. I reluctantly pry my gaze away from the ocean and let my eyes linger on the sky as I pump my arms to stay afloat. The bright sun has dipped lower into the sky and the path of maroons and violets that the absence of the fiery orb has left behind tell me all that I need to know. It's as if the sky was giving me a warning, a warning that's reaffirmed by my father yelling, “It's time to go!” When I turn my head, I see my mother waving at me, beckoning me to come back to shore. I feel a rush of sorrow at the thought of leaving the ocean, the thought that all I'll have of the ocean is a figment of my memory, of my imagination. ‘I just reunited with you hours ago.' I shake my head and ask my parents for a few more minutes but they say I need to get ready for dinner. I stay there and float in the middle of the ocean for a few seconds, feeling the salty wetness of the ocean all over my skin, but I relent when I hear my mother yelling my name. I feel the pull of the ocean on my clothes as I wade back to shore, as if the ocean doesn't want me to leave either. Waves start crashing madly against the rocks as I step back onto the sand. ‘I'll be back,' I think at the ocean in an effort to calm it. But I don't know if I will.

June 9, 2018: My alarm went off at 6 a.m. I woke up terrified. My hands were clammy, my hair was a mess and I was an overall wreck. I didn't know why I was so nervous. Then I remembered: that was the day I would travel across the nation...without my parents. When I got out of my bed, I finished packing my suitcase. While packing, I was daydreaming about what the future would hold. “Will my plane crash?” “What if this is the last time I see my parents?” “But what if this trip will be great?” I had mixed emotions. I knew the trip would be amazing but I didn't want to experience Washington D.C. without my parents. As a single tear rolled down the left side of my face, I broke down into tears. My thoughts were taking over and all of the sudden, my room was spinning. The next thing I knew was that I saw myself sitting on my suitcase crying into my knees. My world was collapsing. I begging my parents to not make me go on this trip, but they said I needed the experience of traveling and it would be good for me. Once I calmed down, I went about my morning. All while having a blank look on my face. When I walked downstairs, I found my sister sitting at the counter eating scrambled eggs and my mom making food for us to eat on the plane. My dad was not in the room. “Dad,” I yelled, curious of where he could be. I did not get a response. “Hey mom, do you know where dad is?” “He is loading up the car.” “Ok,” I said, remembering that he had gone into my room to get my suitcase when I was brushing my teeth. Once my dad had come into the house, my mom had finished packing our snacks and my sister ate all of her eggs. “Ok,” my dad said. “The car is packed up. Let's get out of here.” My sister and I had taken about five minutes to say goodbye to our dogs because we always gravitated back to them every time we stood up. When we arrived at my grandpa's house, his wife Willow, my step-grandma let us in. Her granddaughter, Ruby was sitting on the couch scrolling on her phone as my grandpa was sitting next to her watching the news. Then, we said our goodbyes to my mom and we were on our way to start our journey. When we arrived in D.C, the first few days were great. Then, all of a sudden, I woke up one day and everything took a turn for the worst. On the third day, my grandpa made us walk from our hotel room all the way to a restaurant that was an hour away. When we got there, there was one other family in the restaurant. It looked like it was from the 1800s. Old architecture, and candles as the lighting. I ordered a mac and cheese, and my grandpa ordered a burger with fries. Everyone else's food arrived first, and mine about 10 minutes later when everyone else had finished their food. I was very hungry from the trip to the restaurant because I had also twisted my ankle on the walk there. The next thing I knew, my grandpa was asking me to give him some of my small bowl of food, when he had already finished his meal to the point where there weren't even crumbs left. I told him that I was very hungry and would give him any leftovers I had. Right then and there, he started screaming at me and telling me that I was ungrateful and I was lucky that he took me to Washington D.C. While he was yelling, I started crying and the other family started staring and rushed out of the restaurant. Willow and Ruby were just sitting there quietly eating their food and my sister was crying and trying to defend me. The situation got so bad that the waitress came up to me and gave me a long tight hug. I could tell she felt my pain. They eventually kicked my grandpa out of the restaurant for causing a scene, so that meant I had to leave as well. We took the subway back and I cried the whole way home. Two days later we went to the pool in the hotel. I jumped in the pool and it was freezing so I quickly ran out and huddled a towel around my body. My grandpa started to yell at me again when I refused to go back into the freezing water. I ran into the hotel and found my way back to the room. I ran into my bed and called my dad right away as my sister was next to me and we were both crying hysterically. It was so bad that my parents were looking at airline tickets to come pick us up early. As I was on the phone with my dad, my grandpa walked into my room screaming at me because he found out that I had told my parents everything that happened. My dad heard the whole thing. It turns out my mom had called him while he was at the pool and he lied to her telling her that we were there and he was watching us swim. I waited for him to finish yelling and then hung up with my dad without saying anything. He then left the room. The rest of the trip got worse and was a complete blur to me. I couldn't wait to go home and did not say anything on the flight back to L.A. Once we exited the plane, my parents were waiting for us. I ran into their arms and into safety again. I have not talked to my grandpa, Willow or Ruby since that trip.

In 1992, due to my mom's failing health conditions, she moved in with me. Not long after, she was diagnosed with dementia. I suspected as much since I noticed a change in her dwindling memory. While dementia / Alzheimer's is nothing to be taken lightly, what I didn't realize at the time was that mom's health condition helped me provide her with better care. Mom was soon in a wheelchair. I'll get to why that helped in a minute. Mom's dementia raced through her brain and within last two years of her life, she was completely non-verbal. (I'm also getting to that.) Mom's been gone four years now and not a day goes by that I don't wish I could do it all over again. I miss her with all my heart. While I no longer have my mom, I was given another option. A few months ago, an ad by a local gentleman was posted in our community online newsletter looking for help with his wife who has dementia. I thought I'd apply for the position since I'd taken care of mom. Mr. J was impressed with what I offered and hired me immediately. Here's where his wife differs from my mom. Mom was unable to walk. Ann can. Mom was non-verbal. Ann is somewhat verbal. Mom was very placid. Ann is most of the time but not always. If mom's imagination still existed, she didn't have the capability to show it. Ann's is and she does. Now I'll elaborate. While mom couldn't walk and Ann can, I always knew where mom was. Ann seems to have a problem sitting still for more than ten minutes unless she's eating lunch. She wanders around constantly moving anything within her reach. That's okay but all too often, she'll move her husband's laptop and important business papers. No matter where he puts them, she'll find and move them. I'm thankful their home is small. Like all homes, there are two doors: front and back. Mr. J. found it necessary to put in a second deadbolt lock in the back door that is just above Ann's reach. I count my blessings each time I'm there as Ann tries constantly to walk out the door to “go home”. I keep inventing reasons why she shouldn't be leaving the house. I tried once telling her she was home and that didn't make her at all happy. I changed tactics and said we needed to wait for her husband since he had the key to the car. That calms her down. Don't misunderstand me. Ann and I leave the house and walk around the community several times a day, but she's determined that she needs to, as I said, “go home”. She surely keeps me on my toes. The second issue is speech. Mom's speech quickly became nonexistent, as if she had no vocal chords at all. Mom never uttered one sound. Ann, on the other hand, can utter a few words but most of what she tries to say is nothing more than buzzing sounds. I know she thinks she's speaking intelligently, but in reality, what anyone would hear is: “And that one, bzzzz, bzzz, bzzzz.” I have to study her facial expressions to have an idea of whom and what she's referring to and wonder, has it made her happy, confused, or angry and then reply with, “Oh Wow! I didn't know that!” Then Ann will say, “Yeah!” We have some strange conversations that only she really understands. Ann has also exhibited a few minor anger issues. She has a stuffed toy that she loves – sometimes. She'll cradle the toy as though it were a small child. She'll sing to it, speak to it, and often hold her imaginary conversations with it. On a few rare occasions, she'll buzz-ask the toy a question. No answer. (Reminder: it is a stuffed toy that can't speak) She'll ask again. Still no answer. This might go on for a few minutes and with each time, Ann waits for an answer that won't come, her patience wanes until finally, she snaps. She'll grab the toy by the head and shake it violently while demanding an answer, “Speak to me” “Speak to me”. When no answer comes, she abruptly stands up, still tightly holding the toy by its head, and slams it down on another chair and curtly says, “Then don't answer me! Bzzzz,, Bzzzz Bzzz.” By the time, this tirade is over (usually no more than five minutes), I've retrieved a piece of chocolate and when she turns to me, I say pleasantly, “Oh Ann! Look what I've found. I think you'll like this.” She accepts the candy, sits down next to me, and picks up her small photo album and points to each photo buzzing its description. Ann is, for the most part, a delight to care for. Easy? Not at all. Pleasant? Most of the time. Would I stop going to see her? Absolutely not! The other day right before I made her lunch, I suggested she wash her hands. She did. I stood next to her with a towel. Her eyes lit up as if I'd given her a great gift. She smiled, dried her hands and said, “Thank you. You're the sweetest lady.” And then she hugged me. It was the highlight of the day! While Ann in her own way can be much more difficult than my mom had been, she could do something my mom was unable to do. She hugged me.

Who am I. What right do I have to feel this way. Millions have died, some struggling to live, while others going through the most ineffable sufferings. Precious and dear lives have been snatched away by a very well-known adversary, death. Yet still, here I am, with the mere audacity to feel what I consider as - sadness? Here I am, with the absurdity of my emotions and the insanity of my thoughts. I have been in this deep, dark pit too before: shutting out any form of light and reveling in my own emptiness. It was that way until someone was brave enough to venture into the pit and save me. Well, it's different now. Social interactions are now perilous in such a way that it must be avoided at all times. Our natural desire for consolation and comfort in tough times was shifted to simply video calling and messaging. As convenient as it may seem, months with almost zero human contact turned out exasperating and troublesome. I, for one, deeply sunk into my own personal bubble where it seemed like there was no one else but me – no one to save me this time. All these humanitarian disasters, social crises, and global conflicts are unraveling in front of my very eyes. In all honesty, my so-called “problems” are trivial and insignificant in comparison to the chaos of this world. Stressing over the lack of food while others long for at least a biscuit to munch on. Complaining about my pathetic life when others are mourning over the loss of their loved one and fighting for their lives. Although I hate to admit, it is extremely tempting to just overlook all these and focus on my situation – to cancel out the noise in my surroundings. Indeed, these inherent instincts of mine start to kick in. Several news on social media do not seem to bother me as much as I believe it should. It became a personal struggle for me to remain alert on all the contemporary issues while handling my very own issues. After all this, I have come to a realization. I am not to let my pride and selfishness get in the way and cloud my judgement. I should not neglect the important things in these world just because of my needs. However, on the other side of the spectrum, any emotion or feeling that we may experience must not be disregarded and just pushed to the side. We are human beings with natural tendencies to feel sadness, anger, and confusion. Our very existence validates it. Although setting these aside may appear like the simplest and most apparent thing to do, we are unknowingly causing ourselves more harm than good. The first step we must take is to fully accept all these negative things as part of ourselves. Personally, I was caught up distracting myself from all the sadness until it consumed me, bit by bit. I forced myself to become happy, believing that being sad was not and should not be an option for me. I detested the feeling of extreme loneliness and somehow wished I'd never felt that way, which eventually led to hatred towards myself. “I don't deserve to be sad because of some stupid and petty reasons.” “I need to be happy, so others around me can be happy.” I tried, but no matter how much effort I put in, it would never truly work. Sadness, depression, anxiety, among many others, does not just simply disappear. Acknowledging my emotions played a huge role in this battle, realizing that it is okay to not be okay. Small steps toward the goal may not be a lot, but together they contribute to being completely “okay”. Even if it is as simple as taking care of yourself or doing something you love, do it. If it's listening to music or reading that book you've always wanted to read, do it. It is all about how we deal with what we feel that matters. When I chose to put it aside, it was still there and I never overcame it. Recognize it, face it, and let go of it – that makes all the difference. My worth is not defined by what I feel, I know that now. The reality is this – we are all human beings with our own varying problems and circumstances. Some are at the very peak, enjoying the best times of their life, while others their lowest and darkest times. Everyone has their own timelines; we must never compare our failures to others' successes. Who am I? Well, I am me – a daughter of the King of Kings and that is enough. What right do I have to feel this way? I have every right. My emotions are valid, and yours are too.

Once scared, once hurt, once used, once betrayed, never trusts again. The emotional rollercoaster one goes through along this process is immensely exhausting to the point they don't want to try it again in the fear that it could end in failure again. A broken heart shatters into pieces like glass, it takes time and struggle to be put back together but nonetheless it's still broken, the cracks still there, sure it's been glued together and fixed like putting puzzle pieces together but in the end, it's just one touch away from breaking down again. Trusting some the first time is easy cause you've hot nothing to lose but trusting again is tough, cause you've experienced the loss and the eminent pain is something that can't just be erased from one's mind. So when that person prepares themselves to trust again, they know the consequences, they know they could potentially face failure but they still try, ready to embrace the pain all over again if it's a hoax again just because of that glimmer of hope that this time maybe it'll be different. But no one can live life with being scared, no one can move ahead without experiencing pain or hurt, in order to get to the end of the rainbow, one has to struggle, so try, maybe not today but someday, when you feel a sense of sincerity in a kind heart. But till then, love yourself.

Life is so uncertain, actually everything that happens is uncertain. Everything was going well like business, economy, works, exams and suddenly all things got paused because of small virus - corona virus/ covid-19. So my life during lock-down consist of happiness, sadness, loneliness, and ya was exhausting sometime. I got chance to learn so much new things and some moments were so stressful as well. Everything was going okay but one evening my dad received call from my uncle. He was having fever and was really sick. So he was planning to go Chitwan for further checkup and wanted my dad to go there from Kathmandu. Doctors referred to Hospitals of Kathmandu so they came here next day. Soon after they came various check ups were done and because of unknown reason there reports came late than expected period of time. We were really afraid what might happen now. We had already tested for covid-19 and fortunately results were negative. Still he was having continuous fever and cough. But soon his right part of the body like right legs, right hands were so weak that it was being hard for him to walk and eat as well as speak. Doctor said that physiotherapy can help so he started but time passed and no any improvement were seen. Everyone in the family were tensed. Nothing was working well. Business were shut down because of lock-down, uncles condition was getting worse, me and my sibling were at home since more than three months as colleges and schools were closed. Nothing was going good. Later report came and it was shocking for all of us. It was cancer. And soon they decided to go Delhi, India for further treatment- my dad, uncle and aunt.Despite the increasing cases of covid-19 and specially in India it was really a tough decision but getting scared and loosing life is really not an option. So we have to take risk sometime in hope that something good might happen. Somehow they manged tickets and went there. Currently they are in Delhi doing treatment. So this one of the most stressful period. During this period I also learned so many things. I always have been an introvert but I realized that we also need some social connection. Being around friend surely helps to uplift the mood though you don't like being with them all the time. I tried various recipes from You-tube and guess what they turned out to be good. So I decided to try painting as well and I soon realized it was not my cup of tea at all. Also I did various online courses on mental health and I am glad I did them. Learning about various things has always been my passion. And I am here trying my writing skills. I realized that various unexpected things happen. But we should have positive attitude within us to deal with those things. We have been so busy an we got free time to know our self in this lock-down period. So just explore thing and seeking for new things helps to please your soul and provide good vibes. It is really important to have balance in various things like work, family, relationship, etc. The time we got was really necessary to take a break from that tight schedule. I spend my day with family, talked about childhood of my parents, listened their stupid jokes, helped my siblings, tried things that I never could because of lack of time then. Sometime there were arguments but there were care and love hidden inside it. The bond with family became much more stronger though there were some arguments and all. We created special moments that will never be forgotten for rest of our lives. The unity and support was the most required thing because being lonely and not trying anything new can be really dangerous for my soul at least. So all those are my experience and opinion about the quarantine. There were good times, there were bad times. There were moments where all family used to sit in drawing room and laugh, forget everything that was happening. There were also moments where everything and everyone seemed to be blanked. There were time where I was learning new things and there were times when I was struggling with some old things. But what i think important is that I learned how to cope with all those things, how precious are the things that I used to take it for granted.I have learned to appreciate and also what i have learned is gratitude. Bad things will happen in life but what I believe is being positive is important. If you have any problem, seek help, try to trust your loved ones, believe in yourself, keep your faith in god and carry what you are doing if you believe that the things you know, is not harming yourself and others as well. Peace of mind, a good and correct information, patience, love, self-respect and hard-work are most powerful tools of life that I believe I sensed or we can say learned in this quarantine period. Now I am ready to tackle any problem with a smile though I would panic sometime and that would be completely okay cause I know I have people by my side and they always will be.

With backpacks on our backs, dreams in our hearts and stars in our eyes, my husband (Jason) and I (Heena), set off on an adventure of a lifetime…travelling around the world. Sadly, only after 133 days, our adventure came to a sudden halt. Why? Well, you've probably heard of the most common and biggest enemy of 2020, it goes by several names – Covid-19 / Coronavirus / SARS-CoV-2. Of course, not just our lives, Coronavirus brought the whole world to a standstill. Cities that never sleep, all of a sudden found their roads deserted. Ever busy airports were ghost towns. Shops and restaurants were closed. Buses and trains ran empty. People were fearful and anxious…no longer just of catching the ghastly virus, but of each other! The super powers of the world were playing blame games (surprise) and capitalism was brought down to its knees! We, unfortunate nomads, got stuck in Medellin, Colombia – with our fates in the hands of the raging Coronavirus. Quarantine life Unbeknown to us, Coronavirus was travelling across the world a whole lot faster than us. Before the situation flared up, we were in Bogota, still making jokes about those odd people wearing masks and gloves. We ourselves had a mild scare when Jason complained about being out of breath. I say mild, as not long after he had complained, we realised we had flown in from sea-level to one of South America's highest cities. Well, no wonder he was out of breath! We decided to travel to Medellin, so that we could live our “lockdown sentence” in the “city of eternal spring”, in a milder climate – Bogota was a bit cold for our liking. The initial days were a pleasant blur. We moved into a self-catering flat, over indulged in fine wines and home-cooked meals. We caught up with our families and friends via video calls. However, those fun filled days soon disappeared when we learnt that a colleague back home had died of Coronavirus, and then, we found ourselves in a dark abyss. Our colleague's death hit home. Jason and I, stuck in a studio flat, 24/7, had no choice but to talk about our feelings of losing someone we admired and respected. It wasn't easy, it was painful, it hurt so bad. We both experienced sudden spurts of emotions and ended up in pools of tears. We realised though; we were lucky to have each other. We spent hours talking about our fears of losing family members or friends back home and not being able to bid adios to them. Those were complex talks and we learnt so much more about ourselves and each other. Let me add here - we've been together for 13 years, and I thought (so wrongly) that surely, we know all we need to know about each other? It goes to show we are always learning! Once we were able to rise above the dark abyss, we decided to focus on the positives, and developed routines (Jason really took to sweeping the floor!) to enable us to have a purpose. We reflected on our past journeys, reminisced about the incredible people we had met on our travels, and the life changing experiences we had gained in those 133 days. We wrote blogs about our experiences; those were beautiful times – we were reliving our memories. With lockdowns being extended every two weeks in Medellin, we were in a desperate need of a change of scenery. So, we moved to a bigger and a nicer flat to maintain our sanity. Respecting and accepting change We have accepted this life dictated by Coronavirus. It hasn't been easy – our freedom being taken away has really kicked us in our backsides. I have my highs and lows, and sometimes, several in a day! However, writing has been my unselfish comrade, that has helped me find some equilibrium in my life. It has aided me to stay positive and process my thoughts, in turn enabling me to respect and accept the “new normal” way of living. Writing about my feelings, fears and experiences, has provided me with a vital medium to create a robust bridge between anxiety and self-preservation. I received lots of positive messages from people around the world, who have read my stories and experiences. They have shared with me their own quarantine ups and downs. Knowing that other people were experiencing similar fears, really helped me to feel less of an emotional wreak! We discussed our routines and what was helping us to maintain our emotional well-being. Those beautiful intricacies of newly formed virtual friendships, have empowered me to continue to connect. I have created some meaningful bonds that have proven to be nothing less than a life-line. Hope I hope for a life free of Coronavirus. I hope that people maintain what seems to be a new found respect for Mother Earth. I hope people continue to be caring and kind towards one another. Lastly, I hope we do not take this life for granted. All we have is now, so let us live life to the fullest and write about it whenever we can!