I have been trying to denied this, but the truth is “there was never an us”. We were never together, I was his, but he was never mine. We didn't have labels, yet we don’t need labels to feel anything. The trigger was probably the thought that maybe it would be different. That maybe, it would finally be him. That maybe I won’t end up alone, scared or hurt.
It all started with the meaningless teasing – that I thought life is trying to paired us up, and we played along fine. At first, it was funny for us, and we went on like we didn’t care because I knew, I was certain, that I would not fall in love with a random stranger. But then I remember the moment when jokes became half-truths. That exact moment when I dared to transcend the line between silly and serious. That moment when I started writing about him. And I wandered if it’s real already, where I look around for clues.
But then again, I should have known that I would fall for him first because I have a fondness for guys that will never like me back; I just gravitate towards them. Looking back, I can say that it was nice at first. He always made me laugh and we had so many things to talk about. I wanted to be always near him. I felt calm just knowing that he is going to be there at the end of the day. I wanted – needed – to see him every day. His voice became my favorite sound. It was all warm and I felt happy because at the end of the day, I knew that I had him. Or at least, I thought I did.
But it doesn't took me long to figure out that we really had nothing but just stranger that talks. I am even scared to say now that we were flirting because what if those moments between us were just an illusion? Because he never held my hand, or we never went out alone. What we had were words, laughter, messages, glances, slight touches. Maybe we never really flirted, and maybe it was bound to stop after things get serious. Perhaps all these just happened in my mind, after all, it doesn't mean that it didn't hurt any less.
I am probably blinded to only see what I want to see. I know it will be more difficult to forget about him because I just didn’t like any one thing in particular about him, like his eyes, or his smiles, or his laughs. I like him beyond the physical, because I like him as a whole. And most importantly, I liked myself when I was with him – I got a glimpse of how it is to be in love. And maybe, that is enough.
But then again, I should have known that I would fall for him first because I have a fondness for guys that will never like me back; I just gravitate towards them. Looking back, I can say that it was nice at first. He always made me laugh and we had so many things to talk about. I wanted to be always near him. I felt calm just knowing that he is going to be there at the end of the day. I wanted – needed – to see him every day. His voice became my favorite sound. It was all warm and I felt happy because at the end of the day, I knew that I had him. Or at least, I thought I did.
But it doesn't took me long to figure out that we really had nothing but just stranger that talks. I am even scared to say now that we were flirting because what if those moments between us were just an illusion? Because he never held my hand, or we never went out alone. What we had were words, laughter, messages, glances, slight touches. Maybe we never really flirted, and maybe it was bound to stop after things get serious. Perhaps all these just happened in my mind, after all, it doesn't mean that it didn't hurt any less.
I am probably blinded to only see what I want to see. I know it will be more difficult to forget about him because I just didn’t like any one thing in particular about him, like his eyes, or his smiles, or his laughs. I like him beyond the physical, because I like him as a whole. And most importantly, I liked myself when I was with him – I got a glimpse of how it is to be in love. And maybe, that is enough.