06 November 2012

Parting of Ways

Though you weren’t mine; you’re my first love.” Yuna – Lullabies
If all the people already knew, what makes it even more embarrassing?
It should be more than 10 years by now. I wasn’t even 13 that time, but you already were. It was by mid-July; I guess that was when it started. It all started with a movie and ended with tears.
The memories always overwhelmed me. I found it unfair to not being able to choose whom to fall in love with the first time ever.
All those childish giggles, those quick glances we exchanged now and then; and instant smile when our eyes met. Your smirks when you met me in the hallway.
I wasn’t ready for love, I guess. I got so nervous when you were around, I couldn’t even think how to react every time you were trying to talk to me.
We had our differences - yes. We were from very different backgrounds: both from the ends of the spectrum. Different places of living, different family background. You were at the pinnacle of a child’s success: a smart good-looking child, while I was somebody in his own world.
Our worlds collided in a way that I had never imagined before.
We started seeing each other so much, that being with you had became very awkward. Without realizing it, I started to feel strange when I was with you.
It was a foolish dream.
And there I was, stricken by love. I didn’t even know the meaning of love to start with. For goodness’s sake, I wasn’t even thirteen. I just knew that every time you were around, this world suddenly stops. Like everything is frozen; every sound, every other movement ceased to exist, every other person didn’t matter.
You and your smiles. You and your eyes. We and our small escapades. We and those stupid petty childish things we did. We kept it a secret; all of it.
Then I did a foolish mistake. We didn’t technically fight, but it was never the same again afterwards. And that was when they all started to pull us apart. Telling us that we could never be together. We were dragged away, to not being able to see each other again. I was heartbroken, to say the least.
For a few years, I knew something was wrong. I was missing you; and at the same time telling myself that somehow this is not meant to be. I knew every other day that I was really in love with you. And telling you was the hardest thing ever.
That was the purest form of feelings I ever felt for somebody who was not family. And somehow fate is calling for our second encounter.
We got into the same school again. I was tormented with memories; with my emotions that I held for you. Somehow I knew that meeting you again was not our chance to be together; but it was my chance to bid a proper farewell.
It must be funny because you were taller than me when in our lower forms; and now I think I’m taller than you. And sometimes we met in the hallway, but we avoided each other’s eyes.
I’d still remember your birthday; I still do. And when it was your 17th birthday in February I told you how finally this is the end; that we will never see each other again. And somehow that gave me some sort of peace. That finally I’m admitting to myself that I’m letting go of something I held dearly in my heart for years. Something so beautiful to love and hold – and now I’m telling myself that it was the end.
I noticed the differences after that. I was disheartened on my own, and you seemed to be depressed. I guess telling things with that kind of impact was harmful to both of us, even when we had different, opposing feelings for each other. We were not ready for the truth, I guess.
And it has been 6 years since then. We were far from each other; very far indeed. I was living my life as it should be lived, and I was never able to love again. I remembered you well, sometimes writing stories about you, and sometimes dreaming of how things can happen differently if we were together. All those things we had seem like some kind of illusions.
It was a few weeks ago when I finally learned the truth. The cold hard truth.
It surprises me of how much it hurts me even after all those years. Maybe it signifies the death of an innocent dream I kept for years. That I wanted to remember you as the perfect first love; the perfect person whom I had fallen head over heels with. I want you to be as pure as you are in my mind.
It was not your fault. It was a choice that had nothing to do with me. But knowing you and my best friend was together behind my back seemed like the biggest surprise that I couldn’t handle.
The image of you and the perfect dream inside my mind shattered. I felt insulted. And I was the last to know.
I don’t know if there’s somebody who loved you as much as I did, but I did love you unconditionally. I loved your warmth, your tenderness, your delicateness in your voice; the way you speak at me. I might not remember how it all happened but I do remember the feelings it gave me.
And it was you who stayed when I was down. You were there; the only one who didn’t judge me. The only one who made me feel at least I worth something to someone. I found my savior in your smiles and words. You saved me in a way.
Those people might not understand what happened between us; or what happened to my heart. But I loved you, and that is the naked truth that I have to live with every single day of my existence. I don’t know if it means something for you, but that is the truth.
Love is being unfair. For every win, someone loses. And I was the one who lose it all.
And I believe I have moved on. My best friend is still my best friend. I believe that I have lived my life as I want it to be lived; no regrets. I decided to let some part of me go, and I feel happy to have done so. You are a part of my past, and you have no idea how much you mean to me. Even for now.
So farewell now. Life just have to go on.

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