My MBTI Says I’m an INFP and It Didn’t Lie

The familiar chirp of mayas urged you to stir from where you’re comfortably bundled up in bed. You’re still cuddling your trusty, fluffed up pillow and when you turned around to look at the window, sunrays are already filtering through your blinds.

“You have class today.” your mom supplied when your brain began to panic at the sight of your blinds open.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, ran both of your hands down your face before you looked at her again. “Mom, why are you in my room?” 

She simply shrugged, grabbing a book that she’s stacked on my study desk and starts rearranging my shelf again. She doesn’t look back at me when she started talking again. “I miss fixing your room for you.”

You pursed your lips and then slowly pushed yourself up into a sitting position. She resumed working on the task at hand, which you’ve came to realize, was arranging the books according to their authors or to their series (if it applies).

A small smile was gauged out of you and you slowly slipped yourself out of bed, shuffling your feet unto your kumamon-themed fluffy slippers. You wrapped your arms around yourself then, slowly made your way over to hug your mom from behind and placed your chin on her shoulder.

“You miss your little girl?” you asked her, chuckling a little before moving away slightly.

Your mom’s expression was a cross between a pout and an impending onslaught of tears. You tried not to laugh at it, just because you know your mom is such an INFP, just like you, and patiently waited for her to turn around and look at you. When she did, she gave a small nod, lip wobbling as she struggled to keep herself from crying in front of you, but a few tears slipped down her face treacherously. She rubbed at them aggressively, as if she’s squashing them for exposing her quite like that.

“I’m really going to miss you.” she croaked out, a fresh set of tears streaking her cheeks as she did.

This prompted you to coo at them, hands coming up to dry her face from the punishing rivets her eyes kept trying to procure. “Mom, I’ll come see you every summer. I promise that.” you placate them, your hands coming to hold hers, squeezing reassuringly.

“But that won’t make up for time lost.” she whimpered, clamping back twice as hard as you’re holding her hands.

You refrained from saying anything because your mind goes blank for a bit and all you can think about was the words that she’d said. Your mom seems to have noticed the change of demeanor and furrowed her brows in worry. “Everything okay?” she asked instead, hands relinquishing from holding yours to rub at your arm.

On normal days, you can never be able to lie to your mom’s face. The thought of doing such a thing just never sits well with you, and you’re prompted to spew out the truth like it was wrenched out of your gut. However, on days such as this, when you remember things you shouldn’t be meddling with anymore, you decide that it’s best to not divulge anything at all.

“No, no. Everything’s fine.” you said, waving a hand dismissively as if your mom’s concern can also be easily warded off by that simple gesticulation, “Also,” you added, beaming at her so you can properly soothe their sadness, “you can always call me, right? I’ll always make time for you. You know that. Right, mama?”

She stared into your eyes, her own orbs glassy and reddened from earlier. You expect to see a resigned sigh, perhaps also a sign of concession as she acknowledges the fact that she has absolutely nothing to get so worked up about except the occasional yearning for her unica hija, but you see neither. Instead, she levels you a stoic expression, as if she wasn’t just crying earlier.

“It’s never the same.” she uttered.

Deep down, you know you agree. It will never be but you convinced yourself to be the living antithesis to your own opinions on the subject matter, “But it’s the only way there is.” you mutter slowly, treading on thin ice, “We learn to live with it.”

Your mom raised a brow at you, perhaps not following where you mean to nudge the direction towards but you don’t bother to expound. Instead, you leaned over and gave her a firm hug. “Call me, okay?” you murmured against the fabric of her clothes, the familiar scent of shea butter and vanilla tickled your nose.

It reminded you of a past all too familiar; one of k-drama shows and late night exercises, of a particular language exchange treaty and hand-drawn portraits, of secret notes and free snacks, of a red-badged student from a sea of blues. It’s oddly nostalgic to a point you barely noticed the hours pass. When you come to, you’re already bound to unboard the boat that’s routed for Iloilo and make your way back to your dorm. Classes start at 6 pm today, thankfully. The relief is short-lived however, since tomorrow’s classes and that of following days would demand more time than that of present.

Still, you pushed yourself up and wrestled with other passengers as you made your way out of the fast craft. Even then, your mother’s words echoed loudly in your head, only getting heavier with each step you made until you were able to hail a jeepney to ride. You have to ride two more of these before you arrive to your destination. Time check: 2:45 pm. You still have time to spare, and that time you wasted listening to your newly constructed playlist named “여행”, subconsciously watching the familiar landmarks you’ve grown to memorize pass by.

On your way home, you start running some statistics in your head. One (1) person is invading your mind. Zy made two (2) promises and took you to two places that haunt you to this day. Three (3) words were always given so freely back in the prime of your time together. Time gave you four (4) months to figure everything out and now, it was almost five (5) years and you never did.

You often wondered why you can never quite let it go, although you’ve always sort of known, nevertheless. Why you never really bothered to acknowledge is certainly beyond you. Perhaps you wanted to protect yourself, or to immortalize such a beautiful moment in your life that you didn’t dare try to stow it away in the attic of your mind to just be forgotten. Instead, you planted it at the very pit of your heart. Stupidly, almost like you wanted it to be a part of you but not really. Maybe you wanted the happiness of that moment to last for as long as it can, or remember just how different you were when all of it had transpired. Whatever the main reason as to why you could never get a proper move on from that particular memory, is unbeknowst to you as it is to anybody. How tragic.

“Hey.” a voice startled you from your reverie and when you looked up, you’re at school.

The person in front of you is one of your best friends, and they grinned so wide at you that you can’t help but wonder what the special occasion today was. Something’s odd however, you couldn’t quite place it as you squinted slightly at the woman in front of you.

“Yeah?” you asked uncertainly, trying to ascertain what the off feeling might be as you stared longer at this particular familiar face.

“Someone wants to see you outside.”

“Someone wants... to see me outside?”

She chuckled. “Yeah. Just get out and meet them.”

A reply wasn’t constructed nor delivered because as quickly as the woman came was just as quick did she went as well. You looked around to find that you’re greeted by weird but familiar rectangular desks, albeit no one seems to be inside anymore but you. It’s familiar but you suppose that nothing’s out of the ordinary. You pushed back and up from the metal tall chair that you're perched at, the seat’s legs scraped across the waxed floor and made a drawn, reverberating and ominous sound.

You stopped momentarily, but you made your way towards the exit just as asked. Outside, you see a flurry of people. Mostly students milling around and minding their own business, travelling in packs or in small groups. You found the woman, but now you can place a name on the face.

“Blake, who is it?” you inquired, looking around to see who it might be that had came to looking for you. However, it doesn’t take long before it was answered by the very person you longed to see for a long while now.

Zy stepped towards you, badge still red when it was supposed to be blue, technically still a junior while the rest of your batch now identify as seniors. The bracelet that you remember giving a few weeks prior was worn in the same wrist that zy wears a watch on. They looked so different and so oddly mesmerizing that it took all of your energy to not careen over and hug them tightly.

“Y-You’re here.” You stuttered out, watching as they get swarmed with both their and your friends. The former of the two giving them noogies and congratulating them for something. For what? You can’t remember, but at this moment, you’re happy.

“Yes.” Zy confirmed, a gorgeous smile splayed across their face, “I promised, didn’t I?”

A blur came over next that you subtly wondered why you’re blacking out so often. However, you did catch them asking you this. “Can we have a date today?”

You looked up to their eyes, gave them a small smile while Blake cheered the both of you on from your peripherals. Something told you that today is an important day. That you cant waste this by saying no or rescheduling for another time. So a small and breathy, “sure” was all it took and you were now walking towards the newly debuted mall a few miles away from the port.

Another blur. This time about hiding from the sun, about zy’s family and zy’s plans as the dreaded D-day quickly approaches. You heard Blake suggest going to a Chinese restaurant because you refused to call dibs, and the the three of you finally trudge towards the aforementioned place. Zy and you sit across each other, but Blake sat beside them.

As per usual, Zy housed the expenses and fed you extra. Albeit, it was at the expense of you having to wolf it down because they had to go home soon and they couldn’t afford to be late. Blake and Zy walked you all the way to your stop, and you all stood quietly near the unloading sign. Jeepneys that passed by were mostly full, but your head was empty. You look at Zy and hesitate but Blake seemed to notice.

“So, Zy’s going to the states now.” she announced.

Dread starts to pool in your belly and then suddenly, a whole nest of snakes inhabit it. You started to fumble with the edge of your blouse, feeling the texture of the fabric as you tried to calm your nerves. It was the last day that you’re ever going to see Zy in person, and you don’t quite know how to feel about it.

“Come on. Hug, you two.” Blake urged, although you doubt that its the exact verbatim of what she’d said because you zone out too much.

You looked at Zy and they looked back at you. Suddenly, you felt yourself go numb and the words you’ve recited over and over your head became a warbled jumble of letters that’s far too illegible for your mind to process. You wanted to not just end that day in that way. Instead, you found that you’re embracing Zy, their musk cloaking around you like a protective bubble of sorts. You subtly wondered if they associate a particular thing with you just like you do with them.

Zy always smelled like mint and had the charm of spring. You pondered if they thought of you in the same regard. What type of analogy are you shrouded with in their enigmatic mind? Were you associated to the most simplistic terms or emblazoned with connotations? You mull upon these things quietly as you slowly get overtaken by other things, too. Like how you’d miss slotting yourself against their frame even if there was only so much times that you can do so.

In that moment, time was a trivial thing. Both small and big were of equal magnitude. In the back of your mind, you treasured significant and insignificant aspects of whatever this was, dearly.

The finality of the moment was punctuated when a jeepney rolls down slowly at the unloading zone. A part of you withered and melted away. You wished you could cling unto them far longer, but alas, what goes around comes around. Just like the seasons, your Spring has to go.

"Just say it," you silently reminded yourself. You knew you'd regret it if you didn't.

Zy looks at you expectantly, kind smile strewn across gorgeous lips. The words are there when you check on it, lodged in your throat and tumbling over each other. You run statistics in your mind again.

One (1) jeepney is parked and waiting for passengers. Two (2) days ago a certain someone promised to come see you and they did. Three (3) people are stood next to a rusting unloading sign but only two of them seems to be entirely functional. Four (4) words are itching to get out of your throat but are tumbling over and back to where they came incessantly. Five (5) words leave Zy’s mouth and settles over the palm of your hands.

“Good bye. Get home safely.” 

And then they left.

The words stuck at the walls of your throat slowly morphed into ice. You stood frozen for a moment, plagued with the punishing frost from earlier but when you gathered your bearings, you rode that jeepney parked in front of you home. This was what you’ve recalled to happen, but you find yourself looking at digital messages exchanged between two people. Zy’s name is in bold and you’re typing something in the chat box.

“I love you too.” it spells out and you were given the chance to let it go or not.

Seeing as it didn’t even make sense, but is logically the response that satisfies zy’s last message, you hit backspace hard and watch as the field clears, only for it to refresh to the exact same sentence as if it wasn’t deleted at all. You try again, but for every time you erase it, the text comes flashing back and blinking at the screen.

You don’t know how long that dilemma ensued, but you finally felt at ease after you rearranged the message to “We love you too.” The words don’t come at first but eventually, your mouth opened on its own. Frost and smog flowing out with a few icicles that had set their trajectory towards your lap.

“I’m not ready yet.” You muttered exasperatedly, and then a thousand images assault your mind that it felt as if a virus was taking over an operating system.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up?

“Ma’am,” a voice said, a hand shaking you awake by your shoulders. "Please wake up.”

You blearily opened your eyes, only to find yourself alone in the jeepney with the exception of the driver by the driver’s seat. Instinctively, you look around, noting that the place location does not resemble the landmarks that you usually pass by on your way home.

“You’ve fallen asleep, ma’am. Please ride another jeepney because I will now clock out for the day.”

You bowed in thanks to the driver and scrambled out the vehicle. The place that greets you is unfamiliar. What’s even worse is that you missed one stop. You missed all of your stops altogether and you might be running late for school.

You dreamt of zy again. It's been five years and yet you've never forgotten.

You sighed exasperatedly and pinched the bridge of your nose. “God, my MBTI said that I’m an INFP and it didn’t lie.” You grumbled under your breath as you try to pathfind your way to the nearest jeepney terminal.