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Aouie's Journal

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Of Missent Messages and Transcription Boxes

What is it with you?

You're not that exceptional, not that special, not that good looking. You don't stand out, and you don't have a particularly endearing trait. Why is it though that waving your hand is enough to make me all Jell-o like inside?

Darn it.

Yeah, yeah, it feels great in a sappy, romantic kind of way, but hey, isn't it crappy that I've been holding this torch for an extremely long time and still, nothing seems to be happening between the two of us?

You do something really nice, and I say to myself, 'Yep, he likes you back.' Here it is. The universe is saying he likes you back!? My uniform seems so much whiter, my classmates seem so much nicer, the lectures a bit livelier, and Anatomy dissection a bit more bearable. I think rosier thoughts, act all giggly and goofy, and I start doing those weird things peculiar to people who are in love and who think their objects of affection loves them back.

And then weeks follow of not even hearing the tiniest peep out of you. What am I supposed to think?

I then start convincing myself that it's fruitless, stop doing those silly things, settle with someone else who likes you back, and don't even think about having a future relationship with this schmuck of a guy.

But then you call and say something really cute again, you see me and do something really sweet again and wham! The old feeling is back again like an unwanted houseguest.

And then I start acting silly and doing those weird things all over again.

Please be honest with me. I would really like to know if you do like me back. I am really getting sick of this feeling whenever you so deign to notice me when in fact, I'm just wasting my time. I do not want to feel, act, and think this way anymore when there is actually no future to be thought of between the two of us.

I've had it with pretending that each text I send you is 'missent', and that every senseless forwarded message I send you I also send to everybody else in my phonebook. I don't want to feel uncomfortable when I'm around you, all giggly when you so much as say one word to me, and feel so happy when you call out of the blue or reply to one of my senseless forwards and so-called missent messages.

I'm done with not knowing what exactly to say when you talk to me and feeling embarrassed when I make a fool of myself in front of you. I'm tired of blushing every time you catch me staring at you, and making up excuses when I bump into you.

I'm tired of doodling your name in my notebook, wondering whether we'll have 2, 4, or 10 kids, whether you'd agree to get married on the beach, and whether we'll live here in Manila or in some far off province. I'm tired of going to canned romantic movies and wishing that I was as busy as that couple in the back row, tired of trying not to look at couples publicly displaying their affection in jeepneys, buses, at the MRT, and at the back row of BSLR East, tired of always going home alone with no one to accompany me.

I don't want to watch the sunset at Manila Bay alone anymore, wishing it was you sitting next to me. I'm tired of pretending you mean nothing to me, that losing you to someone else would be inconsequential, that I couldn't care less if that girl beside you was your girlfriend.

I don't want to wake up in the morning with you on mind, looking for messages in my phone, wishing that you have somehow texted me during the night. I've had it with looking inside your classroom, wanting to catch at least a glimpse of you. I'm done with reading Pablo Neruda wishing those lines were being said to me by you.

I'm done with dreaming that you held my hand and said you liked me too, or that you held me in your arms and kissed me, or that you comforted me when I felt the world crumbling around me, or that you celebrated with me when I finally graduated from college. I don't want to hope anymore that you left a love letter in my transcription box, a bunch of flowers outside my door, or that you e-mailed me saying what I've wanted to hear from you for years.

I want to ask how you are without the words getting stuck in my throat.

I want to have an intelligent conversation with you without me saying something stupid.

I want to hold your hand and finally know what we really are to each other.

I want to take care of you, and share your troubles with you, when the world seems to be pulling you down.

I want to be with you and not wonder whether I'll see or hear from you again tomorrow, the day after that, a week after, a month from now, or years from now.

Don't leave me hoping when there is nothing to hope for.

Don't leave me wanting something that I can't really have.

Don't leave me dreaming of us when in reality there is only me, and only you.

Please. Be kind.

Tell me.

XOXOXOXOXOXO
by erendis [from peyups]

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a.o.u.i.e. scribbled this @ 9:52 AM

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