I was in Manila and I met this guy. Let's just call him D because I respect his privacy and he might not like it if he knew that I spilled his name in this revelation. The very first time I laid my eyes on him, I felt I was in a movie and as he turned to me in slowmo, the place got filled with God damned flowers. The scene was absolutely gay and I hated it. But I already liked him.
D's skin was ridiculously fair, had a very nice maintained hairstyle, clear face skin, and what really got me - very pretty light brown eyes. He was very attractive and I am not saying this just because I liked him but because it was the truth and everybody else would have agreed with me.
Seeing D everyday was one of the most fulfilling things for me that time. I was happy just seeing him. He was kind, smart, glowing, pleasant, neat, always smelled nice, and poised.
One day, I told a common friend that I was crushing on him. He told me that almost all the ladies in our group liked him. I shrunk. I wouldn't call myself a below 5 kind of person but when I found out that a few hundred people had an eye on him, I was ready to tell myself to back off on any plans about anything related to him – that I had no chance to be a part of his world.
I was wrong.
One day, while my friends and I were doing some random stuff along with D, my closest friend in the group Sean suddenly started teasing us. "Hey D, I think somebody here really likes you. And his name is [insert my name here]." My hair stood up and my eyes bulged like bloated watermelons from embarrassment. If Sean and I were alone and murder wasn't a crime, I could have sent him digging to hell in seconds. As everybody heard the impulsive announcement, teases and whistles filled the entire room of shame. I was quick to say, "Hey, stop it with your fucked up lies, Sean!" I did not dare look at D because I was obviously afraid of his reaction. I was trying to cope with the situation when I heard him say and sounded smiling, "Really? I didn't know and he never told me that." My face lit up and high hopes in my guts came surging.
After that very frightening event, I had the confidence to send him a text. I have never been more nervous in my life. After a few minutes, he replied. Imagine my glee. I literally destroyed my face from too much smiling. We started exchanging calls and messages. It went really well for us and I couldn't believe it. He told me that he also liked me and it made me really happy. We started dating exclusively. I couldn't believe I was dating a really nice guy, with Chinese and Spanish blood, with a nice career and financially stable, with really good looks, whom everyone looked up to, mature, thoughtful, and 23.
I told him these things and my insecurities but he just laughed at them and said he's just human and that I also deserved him. Those words made me feel secure.
I had him meet one of my best friends Laila because she was the one in Manila that time. Kinna was back home and Karla was in California. We had dinner at a restaurant in MOA. I didn't know if D felt it but I was kinda uncomfortable with the setup. It was my first time to have a best friend meet my boyfriend. Well, I never really had many boyfriends, though. I kept on staring at Laila and I always caught her smirking like she was teasing how everything for me was weirdly great. When D had to go to the washroom, Laila immediately asked me what that guy saw in me that I got him. Though I agreed with her, I still defended myself: Am I really that not desirable?! She replied, "Well, you are. But not to this extent. Lol."
We went on dates regularly – saw movies, went to places in Manila I have never gone before, attended the mass at Quiapo church every Friday, shopped for stuff (he spends a lot on clothing and he buys the not so cheap ones too, which I rarely do because I don't really care about clothes) and so on.
Our relationship was going really well (I don't have to mention the dirty, do I?) and I thought it was gonna stay that way. Once again, I was wrong.
One day, while we were walking along the tall buildings of Ortigas, he suddenly mentioned having a home together in the future, building and fulfilling dreams and whatnot. The thought was really nice and I perfectly understood why he would mention these things mainly because he was mature and responsible, but it still scared me. I guess the thought was so big that I got intimidated. My system didn't know how to deal with it because I was still immature. We were opposites and I forgot to mention that.
I tried not to be bothered nor be mortified by what was right up in front of me, but little by little, I knew something was wrong. I tried to rationalize a lot and told myself that D was a huge ass catch and it would be immensely difficult to find someone like him again. I tried convincing myself that he had the looks and the stability that I wanted. But that was that. I fell out of love. Those thoughts were not the reason, I know. There was something deeper and I myself could never explain it. That's one of the biggest mysteries of love.
I was the jerk and I was completely aware of that. I could even be awarded "The Douche of the Year." But what can I do if my douchey brain told me to not love him anymore? I was very much in love, yes, but that was when I realized that even if both of you are in love with each other, it can still fall apart just like that.
I never even considered telling him the line "It's not you, it's me." because that would ruin everything. That was the perfect breakup line but I never thought about using it.
I was the one who bailed out but D was the one doing everything to keep us from breaking up. He sent me so many messages about how it was gonna be okay and that we could work things out. I never responded to any of those messages. Not that I didn't want to but because I just didn't want things to be more complicated. I thought he was just gonna let it go and move on. When we weren't seeing each other anymore that much, some of my colleagues told me that D was always in a bad mood, scolded, and that they even saw him tearing up. I knew I hurt him so much but I never meant to do it. Either way, I still did and I hoped he will have forgiven me.
I decided to go home to my hometown to clear my head and unwind. While I was at the airport waiting for my flight, I received his last message and it got me.
"I don't want to lose you."
Even if I was decided on never going back, that message almost made me cry. It's like half of me wanted to go back to him but I knew I could never do it. While I pondered with everything that's happened, I promised myself to not fall in love again easily.
As I went home, everything became a bittersweet memory.
I tried not to be bothered nor be mortified by what was right up in front of me, but little by little, I knew something was wrong. I tried to rationalize a lot and told myself that D was a huge ass catch and it would be immensely difficult to find someone like him again. I tried convincing myself that he had the looks and the stability that I wanted. But that was that. I fell out of love. Those thoughts were not the reason, I know. There was something deeper and I myself could never explain it. That's one of the biggest mysteries of love.
I was the jerk and I was completely aware of that. I could even be awarded "The Douche of the Year." But what can I do if my douchey brain told me to not love him anymore? I was very much in love, yes, but that was when I realized that even if both of you are in love with each other, it can still fall apart just like that.
I never even considered telling him the line "It's not you, it's me." because that would ruin everything. That was the perfect breakup line but I never thought about using it.
I was the one who bailed out but D was the one doing everything to keep us from breaking up. He sent me so many messages about how it was gonna be okay and that we could work things out. I never responded to any of those messages. Not that I didn't want to but because I just didn't want things to be more complicated. I thought he was just gonna let it go and move on. When we weren't seeing each other anymore that much, some of my colleagues told me that D was always in a bad mood, scolded, and that they even saw him tearing up. I knew I hurt him so much but I never meant to do it. Either way, I still did and I hoped he will have forgiven me.
I decided to go home to my hometown to clear my head and unwind. While I was at the airport waiting for my flight, I received his last message and it got me.
"I don't want to lose you."
Even if I was decided on never going back, that message almost made me cry. It's like half of me wanted to go back to him but I knew I could never do it. While I pondered with everything that's happened, I promised myself to not fall in love again easily.
As I went home, everything became a bittersweet memory.
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