This is not a story. It's a chronicle of why I write about love, stories, poems and songs. It's me without pretensions... something of me that I have never before shared. Thank God no one reads my blogs.
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I’ve never fallen in love, at least, never with an actual person. Love has always been something that is too perfect for me. It’s so perfect that no one can dare measure up to my standards of whom I should fall in love with. Not that many are in queue to be my amore. But still, I’ve never found anyone whom I would risk everything for.
Oh there were close encounters of course. There were some people whom I felt something stronger than friendly emotions. There was once this girl, when I was young, around 14 years old I think, who shared my room at the hospital when I was confined. She was a lot older, maybe around 18 or 19 at the time. She gave me mango ice cream the day before my operation. She said that I should have a treat coz she thought that I was sweet. I don’t know why she thought that, but hey, who would turn down free ice cream? But more than that treat, it was the gesture that made me like her even more. She was a good girl. She made me laugh with her jokes, made me feel at ease. She always sang to me too. She didn’t have a good voice but she did have a great smile as she was singing. I fancied myself falling for her. I thought she was brave facing a more dangerous operation the same day that I would be undergoing mine. Well, thankfully, both our procedures ended up well. In fact, we got discharged from the hospital the same day. I wasn’t able to say goodbye to her though when I left. She was at the shower as I went out the door… singing again. I was sad when I got home. But I had hope in me. After all, she was supposed to bring food for the doctors who took care of us the following week for her check up. I also had my check up scheduled that day. Again, amazing coincidences were happening. First, she became my roommate, then she and I had the same operation day, we were discharged the same day, and finally, I learned that she was going to a college just behind the school where I was studying. So I was sure to see her again. The check up day came and I was so excited. But alas, it seemed as if fate realized the things growing in my young heart. She wasn’t there. I actually cried on my way back home. I wasn’t sobbing but tears that I could not control fell continuously from my eyes. When my companion asked why I was crying, I said that I wasn’t. That those tears were actually tears of lethargy, I was sleepy I said. The moment I got home, I locked myself in a room and cried openly. For the next few nights, I was just crying. Then school came along. I thought I would see her then. I didn’t. I walked along their college to try and spot her after class. Never did. And so I began to forget her. After a month, I realized that I no longer cared if I never see her again. I was not in love with her after all. She was just the older sister I never had.
Then there’s this girl I met through an organization. We first met up in a concert. Man, was she pretty! I was taken with her first time I saw her. Then I got to know her better, and what was just crush turned into like. I was starting to fantasize about us being a couple. How I would be so proud of her because she was beautiful inside and out. But I was put into the friend category. Soon enough, we were becoming good friends. I consciously changed the path of my thoughts from the romantic to the platonic and I was successful. Fortunately or unfortunately, I would never be able to tell. We’re good friends now. And you know what they say about two friends, you don’t mess with each other.
And that’s it. Those are the two nearest cases of me being in love.
Why am I writing this? Curiously, a friend asked me why I still didn’t have a girlfriend. I answered “the lack of money”. He said it’s not about money. I said it’s about stability. But I know he is right. It’s never the money or stability. It’s about finding the right one for you. She who will turn your world upside down and still you will be thankful. She hasn’t happened to me yet.
What’s funny is that I’ve always been in love... with love. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who would be happily married and be hopelessly in love. I imagine a faceless woman beside me at the altar or in a park as we play with our kids. I imagine us growing old. I imagine us fighting at times and then learn the best way how to settle the situation, that no matter how bad the fight was, if we were asked at the worst of it if we loved each other the answer would be a resolute “absolutely.” I imagine her smiling because I stole a kiss from her. I imagine myself smiling and thanking the high heavens that she was right there at my lap as I watch her sleep. I imagine the sweet nights that we share, and the good morning kisses.
The thing with imagination however is that the moment you open your eyes, it’s gone.
Truth is, I’m scared. I’m scared to fall in love and I’m scared not to. I’m scared to give up my heart because that might mean that I will never have it back again. In the same way, I’m terrified that I might never find someone to give it up to, or worse, that I’ve actually passed the opportunity of giving it up… I might have already met HER and didn’t recognize her. Too many fears, I know. But they can’t be helped. I’m sure that if I ask my friend whom I’ve mentioned earlier, he would tell me that it would be better if I try and gamble. That would be easy for him to say. He’s happy now.
I hate it that he would also be right.
I haven’t given up yet though. I think that I’m still young enough to find that one person who can give butterflies to my stomach at the mere mention of her name or at a glance at her smile. I would be blessed to find her some day and even more so if she ends up finding me as her own one true love. Maybe then, all my apprehensions will finally cease and all that there will be is courage.
Hah! I opened the computer to write a fiction, and here I go writing a confession. That’s funny.
But maybe I’m meant to write this. Maybe she’s also meant to read this, just as she’s meant to be mine. I’ll take my chances. It’s the first step.
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