We were merely freshmen.
Sometimes I wish I could be absolutely bowled over by the extreme kindness and generosity shown only by the best of us.
They could be made up of the mere caricatures of people you see on the streets every day: forever flawed, faceless and unassuming, they take the same long route to work daily, with an overpriced cup of coffee on the go.
Or they could be the (non-)fictional characters that you meet just once in the movies and end up remembering fondly like a friend from your yesteryears: a down-on-his-luck lawyer struggling to make ends meet, or the spunky, well-to-do lady who sees past race, colour or creed.
They also willingly opened up their humble homes; then, their fears and hopes and dreams; and ultimately, their hearts – to absolute strangers, actually caring and genuinely believing in turning around other people’s lives for the better.
And this is also where those heartwarming stories and Kleenex moments usually begin.
So maybe I am a jaded cynic. Perhaps I now have a heart of stone. But I think I have already lost those rose-tinted glasses, and finally realised that they do not matter anymore.
The credits may continue rolling, but reel life is certainly no match for real life.