He learnt at the end, finally, what suited him and what was not. He learnt to not taking any caffeine during some session of emotional fan fiction reading, or that he learnt that he was easily affected by anything in general. His dreams were not nightmares, it was never being considered as a nightmare. It took time when he learnt that his life, even though he was quite short in money every now and then, but it was good. It was good enough for him to still laugh and genuinely happy in most of his day. It was not really perfect, but everything was never been perfect, was it? For his homework and take-home works were spilling up his desk daily, but he was happy, really.

He learnt at the end, finally, that he could easily manage a fake smile and get along with anything that happen unpleasantly at that moment, but he could never do that on several people that he considered as good friends. And that what he feared the most –for those people to be able to read his expression as an open book.

He learnt at the end, finally, that his own little life is perfect enough for him, and, perhaps, perhaps, he didn’t want it to be traded with anyone else’s.