If, If

When I was five, I lost my tiny earrings somewhere in the living room where the Persian rug was my playground with barbie dolls dressed in pink and plastic kitchen set scattered all over the place. Surprisingly, I found it underneath the rug where my parents had searched before. With the praise of having good eyes, since that day if there was anything that was lost, my parents always sent me to find the lost things, especially those that were hard to find, 'cause they would say, "Fiya would find it." And most of the times, I always did.

My oldest best friend trusts me like a believer belief in a bible. She said if I thought of something hard, often and stubborn enough, it would actually happen. Living in England right now, was one of the instances she forcefully made me believe what she thought was real. I don't know, it could be. I did find myself more than often ran into the person that I was thinking about in random occurrences that made me think, this all was a joke. I think it is a good thing that I never thought to kill anybody so far. If that happens, I am going to be in a trouble.

One evening, I was walking by the regular pub I usually go to on the weekend when I was on my way to the restaurant up the hill. I had to stop by and said hi for the sake of politeness to the Bouncer that became a good friend of mine. Suddenly, there was a tall, blonde man in his mid twenties pointed at me as he got out from the room and said, "Oh, you're a trouble." I was shocked and immediately felt self-conscious observed the way I dressed that night, skinny jeans and loose cropped sweater. Nothing that I deemed to represent trouble. But I felt like I was, even though I never met the guy before.

If, if I do still listen to what my parents would say seventeen years ago, I would love to find you again. Somewhere, but not in the four in the morning text messages, maybe in a bowl of homemade Bibimpab instead. If, if my best friend was right, I wonder why I have not seen you in the familiar places because I have been thinking about you for so long. Yet, the only thing that I should not believe from a stranger, I believe the most. That I am, perhaps, the trouble that repel the chances to see you again as you have made your way out -