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.

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

The recent massacre happened at a Catholic cathedral, killing 40 people. And more Catholic priests were kidnapped within a month. A deep sigh from me amplified my relief. But I knew even that was temporary. I was part of an almost-extinct group of people. I wore my chiffon cape on my plain black T-shirt. The cape, recently in fashion, hid my bulging tummy. I smiled at what I saw in the mirror. Walking out of my room, I find Mother and Lavender also dressed up for church. Going to church was dangerous, but even if I were to die there, I'd do it like some rich Lagos Aunty. But reality came after a thirty minutes drive. We met a long queue of cars at the church gate. A strained look decorated our powdered faces, speaking volumes of the fear banging hard against our chests. We watched cars get checked by the stern security guys before entry into our two-acre mega church. Looking away, I caught sight of one of the hefty soldiers from the military sauntering near our car, his long gun hoisted on his shoulder. His dark face reminded me of one of the scary stories that made up their reputation. And just then, an unusual sight caught my attention. It was a beardless fresh guy with oily skin in a black suit. He had his afro hair up like those who played musical instruments in church. His chocolate complexion screamed “Miri's style!” My eyes followed the eye-candy who walked smartly in his neatly pressed trousers. “My Sunday is made,” I murmured, smiling while the queue got to our turn. Lavender got out of the car to open the car's boot, so the security guys could check if we had a human head or some toy guns. Eye candy, aka EC, or rather Eecey walked ahead of us. And that was when my eyes caught the strange-looking briefcase he held unto just as he passed by the gate. An alarm rang in my head, “The briefcase!” it screamed. Guys here carried bags to church, not suitcases. I turned to my mother, who was waiting for the security to finish checking our car and let us in. I opened my mouth to say something, but Eecey felt my intense gaze and looked back at me. Instantly, my mouth curved into that melting smile I had been itching to flash someone. Our gazes locked for some seconds, with me smiling like some idiot. He looked away before continuing his brisk walk with the little briefcase. The car was finally allowed into the church. It was hardly parked till I got out of the car. My eyes roamed the premises. Eecey had vanished. It felt like the lives of almost two thousand people were in my hands. “Miranda! Miranda!” Shouts of my name whizzed past my ears. Before I could turn around, a pair of hands grabbed me from behind and turned me around. In all of these, my eyes were tightly shut. I was scared, muscled hands firmly wrapped themselves around me. “Calm down.” A delicious voice whispered in my ear. Time stilled, and I floated in the deliciousness of the raspy voice. The zesty smell of an unfamiliar cologne wafted in my nose, intensifying the magical moment. “Miiiranda,” The raspy voice purred into my ears, and my eyes flew open out of embarrassment. He had been calling for a while. I sighted my mother and Lavender among the agitated crowd gathered around. One of the soldiers stood with his gun poised, ready to shoot. My mother, who already had tears running down her face, had to drag Lavender down. I realized then the many guns directed at me and the hostage-taker. “It's me, Mira. I'm leaving. Tell them that,” He said firmly and nudged me with his knee, his gun at my head. I realized then that it was Eecey. “No!” I said, not actually surprised. The crowd surrounding us got energized at once. “Hit his jaw!” Someone screamed. But Eecey nudged me again. I knew I had to act fast. The soldiers looked readier to shoot than ever. “He's leaving!” I shouted and heard Eecey gasp in relief. The expression moved me, and strange confidence surged through me. “He's not going to kill me. I assure you!” I shouted again, leaving Lavender's mouth hanging open. “Miranda!” I heard someone call. It was Lavender. She had been rapping at the wooden table with her knuckles. And there I sat my laptop in front of me. I've had a character roam my head for days, yet I have been unable to put a word down for a couple of hours. Sunday service at church was uneventful anyways. “It's about another Eye candy right?” Lavender asked, styling her hair into twists. “Yeah, and you just dammed my inspiration,” I said crossly. “He was just about to have a mushy conversation with the female protagonist, telling her that she had saved everybody.” “And how did she save them?” Lavender asked in a sing-song, and I knew she was about to start teasing me. It was the third time I would create a character out of a good-looking guy I was attracted to. If I choose, I could make him a villain, or a hero in one of my stories. And that is one of the perks of being a writer. After all, it was just attraction.

TW: self harm When my screen lit up, I could feel my stomach flutter. I hadn't heard from you since you said Sydney texted you, and I wanted to hear what she said. But the news that I got was not what I wanted. You told me that she liked you, and you didn't really know what to think. You were excited, but you didn't want to let me down. We knew we could never be together, my family would never allow it, and we wouldn't be able to keep us a secret, nor would we want to. For a while now, we had been forced to love each other from a distance. We had been forced to hang out in secret, but I had hoped for more. Those times in secret were the best times we have ever had, and I took them for granted. I will probably never get them again. That summer, we met up at a softball game. It was our first time seeing each other since Covid, and I was nervous. You walked up, and you were beautiful. I should've kissed you right then and there, but I didn't. We talked for hours, and later you told me that you had thought about kissing me too. You asked me that night if it was better to speak or to die, a quote from the most recent book you read. I told you to speak, but you didn't take my advice, and turns out, I wouldn't take it either. I remembered the softball game when you asked me what to do about Sydney. You asked my permission to let you see if it was going to go anywhere. I kept asking myself if I would rather speak or die, and ultimately, I chose to stay silent about how I felt for you. I told you to go for it with Sydney. I wanted you to be happy. What kind of friend would I be if I asked you to wait for something that might never happen? I couldn't be selfish when all I really wanted was to see you smile. You were ecstatic when I told you to talk to Sydney. You told me you thought you liked her, but that we would always have something special. You said you had never felt the way you did about me before. You said I was different and you would never forget me. So that night, while we were messaging, I cried a river of tears. I cried until there was nothing left in me. You were my happiness. Without you, I wasn't sure what to do. All I felt was a numb, dull pain in my chest. It was heavy and sad and all I wanted was for it to be gone. So I tried to make physical pain outmatch the emotional pain. I slit my wrists that night thinking of you, and how maybe you could finally be who you wanted, and with who you wanted, even if it wasn't me. For the next couple weeks, I cried myself to sleep. I wore long sleeve shirts everyday too so you wouldn't see what I had done. One day though, I raised my hand and my sleeve fell down. You had looked at me for just the wrong second and you saw my scars. I followed your eyes and I began to panick. What was I going to tell you? You didn't outright ask at first. You asked me what was wrong because I seemed upset. You wanted to know if you did something wrong. No, not technically anyway. I told you I was fine, but I know you didn't believe me. I felt bad lying, but I couldn't tell you the truth. That was a couple years ago now, but I still think about it all the time. I mostly think about the softball game. If I had kissed you that night, would you still be mine? Why was I such a coward? Why was I so afraid of what people would think? Having people know I liked girls would have been a small price to pay to still be with you. But now we barely talk to each other. You took the school year online so you could focus on bettering yourself, and I don't blame you for that. I do wish that we kept talking though. This year was the worst ever because you used to be my lifeline, and suddenly you weren't there. We used to talk every night, dreaming about our future plans and imagining what we would do once we turned 18. We aren't like that anymore. We haven't talked like that in at least a year. I wish things could go back to the way they were. I miss the old us. We could do anything together, or at least it felt like we could. But now, you are practically gone from my life. You have moved on. Completely and for real. I only want to know how you did it? How did you let go of me? Because I have been trying to let go of you and I can't. Maybe I'll always love you, maybe I will never let go. But one thing is for sure. If I could go back, I would chose to speak, not to die. That night with Sydney, I would have told you everything that was inside of me, just waiting to be said. It might not have made you stay, but at least you would know. I would have stood a chance, because now it's tearing me apart. I miss you, Zoe. I hope your side of this story has been more joyous than mine. I'll be waiting for you if you ever decide to come back. You are special, and I will wait for you for as long as it takes. I love you.

Grace moved from England to Montreal as a war bride in 1945 where she raised her 4 children. Melanie was the youngest daughter of 5. Melanie's oldest sister died during the Blitz of London. Melanie was given a diary when she was 8 years old. Every night before bed she wrote in her diary and she turned to it as if it were her best friend. Melanie describes in detail what life was like for her. When she was 17 years old she boarded a plane with her mother to return to Lullington Road in Dagenham England to visit her Gran and Grandad. This is where she met Tony, the boy next door. A boy Grace did not approve of. Melanie, quickly fell in love with Tony and by age 19 they were married. Tony and Melanie moved to Canada to start a family. They had a son and twin daughters. Melanie was diagnosed with breast cancer that spread to her brain and she passed away in 1999. She left behind a son of 16 and twin daughters aged 13. I am Melanie's youngest daughter. She had written nightly diary entries until she died. During the pandemic I began to read the diaries and the trauma of such profound loss spilled out of the pages and into my lap. Life's bitter grasp of grief that had been clenched around my throat after her passing began to loosen and I discovered who my mother was. I discovered the love story between my parents and the reason why my father never recovered when she died. How was he truly to live without her? During the pandemic I held the weight of her diaries on my lap like a thousand pounds of brick and decided it was time to heal from the trauma that had ruled my life! I created a blog and through the pandemic I was reunited with my mother who left me behind nearly 25 years ago.

Grace moved from England to Montreal as a war bride in 1945 where she raised her 4 children. Melanie was the youngest daughter of 5. Melanie's oldest sister died during the Blitz of London. Melanie was given a diary when she was 8 years old. Every night before bed she wrote in her diary and she turned to it as if it were her best friend. Melanie describes in detail what life was like for her. When she was 17 years old she boarded a plane with her mother to return to Lullington Road in Dagenham England to visit her Gran and Grandad. This is where she met Tony, the boy next door. A boy Grace did not approve of. Melanie, quickly fell in love with Tony and by age 19 they were married. Tony and Melanie moved to Canada to start a family. They had a son and twin daughters. Melanie was diagnosed with breast cancer that spread to her brain and she passed away in 1999. She left behind a son of 16 and twin daughters aged 13. I am Melanie's youngest daughter. She had written nightly diary entries until she died. During the pandemic I began to read the diaries and the trauma of such profound loss spilled out of the pages and into my lap. Life's bitter grasp of grief that had been clenched around my throat after her passing began to loosen and I discovered who my mother was. I discovered the love story between my parents and the reason why my father never recovered when she died. How was he truly to live without her? During the pandemic I held the weight of her diaries on my lap like a thousand pounds of brick and decided it was time to heal from the trauma that had ruled my life! I created a blog and through the pandemic I was reunited with my mother who left me behind nearly 25 years ago.

" Your destiny is your choice." Dear Love, I've lost our love story I wrote on January 1st of 2015,the day I've known I have fallen inlove with you. I have fallen so much to you that I've wrote a romance story , a story I wanted to happen between us in reality. I have made a happy ending in our story. But most especially the story I have written shows how much I love you and how I am willing to wait for you for the right time that we will share a forever . I have kept the story for 3 years and waited for the happy ending to come on the fourth year. However,happiness didn't come. I've lost the story as well as I lost you. It's painful from the start for I believed the story I created will be our story at the end. We started like the beginning but we doesn't end the way I portraited to be. In reality, I didn't end to be with you instead I walk alone in the beach as the sun goes down. We walked in a different path and never met each other at the end. In your journey you met a lovely lady and take the road she's walking . While I take the road that leads me to you. I've already there when someone told me you've change direction. I did go back to still met you but I've saw both of you happily walking in a garden full of roses. My finger was bleeding because of the torn I've touch. It's painful but it's incomparable to the pain in my heart. I continue my journey when I found out you're already with the person you truly loved. But as I take a step ,I look back at you,hoping in an instant you'll leave her and take the road connecting my heart to you.However, when I look back,the smile in your lips never change. You really do love her more than you love me. My journey to my destination was hard for I think about you.But my journey was worth it for at the end of the road even though you are not there, a special reward was given to me. A reward more valuable than you, diploma! The lost of our story is not bad. For it reminds me it isn't my love story after all. My love story will still be made when right time comes with the right person. As of now,I must think of my future for it is that matters most! Love thank you! Sincerely yours, Judy

Found an eighth grade and neighbourhood friend that I haven't meet in a long time. Ranoldie Love Morty that was her name and still is. She she was the only one who understood me and had the same interests (obsessions). She at the time was a homely red head at the time and had facial scarring about the left. My parents stopped me from seeing her because she was the problem. when she found me on imvu she asked for my Facebook. We fell in love. She kept her promise that she would be a medical examiner. I have to do the same with pleasure. Here she is on the left and I am on the right In an imvu pic. She stayed true to her looks I lie about my looks on imvu. Some friends come and go but she obviously stayed.(came back)

I did not think that the light spring breeze could turn my grey life into a raging typhoon carrying destruction and loss. It was my first and last love. Heartbreaking April has come. Despite the start of this warm and calm month many dream of its fleeting except me. By "many" I mean lazy people who are of the opinion that knowledge is not needed and it is just a waste of precious youth. Yes, because of the different views and goals of living I never found a common language with my class which led to the complete collapse of my trust in people. If you do not accept the fact that I'm a boring nerd and to a small extent suffer from social phobia then I'm the same ordinary girl with her secrets, complexes and skeletons in the closet.When I see people walking towards their dreams I almost cry because, unfortunately, I do not have a dream and have never had it before. My only talent is most likely to fantasize about something that will not happen in my life exactly but still people keep saying that dreaming is not harmful. And if someone touches on the topic of personal life and tells everyone about his or her half there is a feeling of pity for this person because now people look only at the reputation. To be honest, butterflies in my stomach have not yet flown, I think, there are even no caterpillars at least. Every day is monotonous and colourless. Sometimes I want to fly up and experience the flapping of wings and freedom, break the shackles and decorate the picture in colorful spring tones. This course of events would be repeated to this day if he had not intervened. The hurricane that attracts and makes my heart tremble and beat harder to the beat of my feelings. It all started with the wind of April...