I saw people walking around, most in white, a few in blue. Though none of those in blue were him, the one I wished to see. I kept looking up from the book I was reading, distracted by the figures that passed by, wishing every time it would be him and only him who walked by, once again to look me in the eyes, smiling as he says "hi", the same way he did on that Wednesday a few weeks ago.
Then I realize, there's no point. Because he's never going to walk my way. Because it's not fate. It's not my destiny to be with him. And I can't change that, whether I like it or not. It's all in the hands of God, the Almighty. But I longed to see him. To bump into him, just so that I could call it a sign; to believe that there is a chance. To think that I'm not crazy to like him when I've no clue what kind of person he is.
And after I walked out of the bookstore, I saw him, there, walking with his friend, I suppose, to his form block, at the back of the school, while I was just sitting there, in my classroom, innocently looking as if I was reading my book. I silently wished that he would turn around and coincidentally catch my eyes. To make sure of what I feel, what my feelings were telling me.
Because I understand not of what's inside. I most certainly do not feel the tingling of the heart, my pulse rising when I see him, or even my breath being taken away for a moment. None of it. Though I used to, for three whole weeks or more. I knew they were there. I felt it. I was present and conscious. I couldn't stop thinking of him. The more he got out of my mind, the more he came back. I've had thoughts of him and me together, and as soon as I realize I'm in my own world, I snap myself back to reality, it seemed like the right thing to do, as I found my thoughts pathetic and only as it was.
Only, every time, I would go back, because I would want to know how it ends, how my short story that I made up of him and me ends. But every time I continue on where I left it, the thought that there's never going to be a chance comes in. And so I think and think, all the negativity that I've pushed out since I got over my ex came back, hitting me like a tidal wave, so huge and tremendous that it turned every other thought inside of me from a positive to a negative. And it just keeps on hitting me until there comes a point where someone interrupts my thoughts or I fall asleep.
I know I shouldn't be all negative, because there's always hope, and there is hope inside of me. Deep down. It's just covered by all the negative thoughts on how it's not meant to be and everything else. But what if it is? Plus, I've only discovered those feelings only three weeks ago, and from what I've noticed, it goes on and off. Just that, when it's on, what I feel is too much for me to handle. I say it's different, but it's different all the time, which makes it the same (or just really different every time).
I could see him playing around with another guy in blue and two girls. Laughing, he was showing his perfectly even white teeth and his pinkish red lips were noticeable from meters away. My friend, Sara, and I were walking from the bathroom on the first floor of Block E, when coincidentally, he was there, at the end of his form block. I asked Sara if it was him I was seeing, (she didn't know that I had feelings for him) and Sara said yes, that it was him, and to walk fast, because she didn't want to talk to him, because every time she does, she would find her heart beating fast. Does that mean she liked him?
But I didn't. I kept my pace, which was as slow as a turtle, stopping by the trash can to throw away the Mentos wrap Sara gave me. Slowly I walked, searching and searching, though I couldn't seem to find what I was looking for. That feeling inside of me. The one that used to show when I see him out of nowhere. The one that gets me all excited and alive. Could it be that it has stopped? Or that it wasn't even real?
What's odd is that I didn't seem to be happy, elated and/or overwhelmed. Instead I felt dull and unsatisfied. As if there was something missing, as if I missed an event, one that I were to attend. As if I skipped a day of my life. Or a week. Possibly even a month! It was as if I didn't even want to accept that I'm not in love with him.
Love. What is love? Should I even be calling it love? Love is something so big that I don't even have the words to explain it. Therefore, I shouldn't be using a word so powerful, reserved for only people who has felt it, who is feeling it, for something I'm not even sure of. For all I know, I could have just been attracted to what I saw, like how I was to the first guy I caught my eye on in high school, my first ever boyfriend. Boy, he was a mistake. Besides, what else could it be? I know absolutely nothing about him. I know the big things, like he's a teacher's son, that he's a prefect, and that he's a nice guy. But I don't know the things that even a friend should know, like his favorite color or the kind of music he listens to. Is there any other explanation to why I like him? Or liked.
But it couldn't be that simple. It just couldn't. There needs to be more drama, more words said. There needs to be heartache and tears. There needs to be depression and misery. But the wasn't any. Or is this not the end? I just can't accept that this is how it is. I have no idea what's keeping me from accepting this. Any normal person would be thanking God, for getting them out of the trouble of having their heart broken. But I'm not. It's like, an unresolved feeling. It goes away, then it comes back. Or maybe it is not the end. Maybe there's an unwritten story. Because it's just ... I mean, it's like I'm losing something that I've never gotten. And to feel that is worse than to get a heartbreak.
"Whatever satisfies the soul is truth" - Walt Whitman
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