Therewas fear and loathing the first time I met you, but your smile painted the skywith the finest hue. You were a transferee back then, but I couldn’t resistadoring your voice that lit up my temple. I wanted to know you, but I didn’tknow how I’d start impressing you.Twodays after, there was no longer loathing, but there still was fear.
I soundeddesperate when I began asking your name. I felt the urge to talk with you afterI noticed how your hair looked messy. I wanted to fix it, but I decided not to.Iwas sitting on the bench that time when I saw your smile again. This time, itshined brighter, brighter than the silver-plated watch on your wrist. I gotworried, what if my friends would tease me? What if everybody would know?Intwo weeks, I’d known much about you, and I liked you. So I thought of givingmyself another chance to explore the reasons why you loved coffee andphotography.
But more than the agony I felt staring at your lips when youstarted telling why you got interested to be part in our circle ofstorytellers, I wanted to lean my head on your chest and hear how your heartbeats for me. I wanted to lie on bed with your warm, broad shoulders and waituntil the sun rises at five. I wanted to skip classes and redeem myself withthe solace I’d feel if I touch the hair on your face and thought, why not I’dtry planting kiss on your cheek?Buta month after, it was cruel; you hesitated to utter a damn word. I sent youlengthy messages on my prepaid, but you didn’t reply. I waited and hoped thatyou’d talk to me.
I spoke to your friends and took chances. I chased yourshadows, but I still was fine, very fine. What went wrong after I smelt howstrong your perfume was? What went wrong after I lost in your thoughts andmanner? What went wrong when you dared to kiss my cheek under a night oftwisted intoxication? What went wrong after you drove me home and tore meapart?Twomonths later, there was no more fear and loathing when I saw.
You wore blackand you had a cigarette on your mouth. I laughed when you were standing alone,and I took a shot, brave enough to smile at you. I never hated you because youleft, but I remembered well I could hardly take my eyes off, hoping you wouldgive me a smile. I could’ve told you earlier that I failed to handle myinsecurity the night when someone held your hand. I could’ve told you earlierthat I wanted to apologize because you wanted something more than I could give.I could’ve told you earlier that I planned to steal your stationery notebookand mark it with my name and your name, but it never happened. I was scared.
Howcould I mourn a love that never was? Seven words: We could never be more thanfriends.