DISCLAIMER: this is best read with Bombay Bicycle Club’s I Had The Blues But I Shook Them Lose album playing in the background
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlLJ6-_8dP4&list=PL2E80B5BEEA399E07 <— Here you go!
So, here I am, alone in our living room where I sleep because I don’t have my own bedroom, half-sick, drinking Mountain Dew, and blogging about things nobody really cares because I really can’t talk to anyone about anything these days. Everyone’s busy with their own lives, my mates from school are busy getting ready their plays and they’ve all forgotten me. The only person who talks to me is not even around, we just talk over the internet. (Shoutouts to Lereyn. If you stumbled upon this, hello. Thanks for everything. <3). Now I’m alone with my thoughts. Again. So, I’ll just type away.
So, I was in love with this girl. Actually, I still am. Her name is Hanna. She hates it when it’s spelled HANNAH. When I say hate it, I mean she really HATES it. She’ll bust your leg. I met her in school. We were both taking up Mass Communications course. The first time I saw her, she had very long hair with ombre color, pink sweater, wearing “doll-eyes” contacts, and furred boots. I thought to myself that she has an otherworldly fashion sense and she’s really not mindblowingly beautiful, but she’s pretty enough to get my attention. Or she WAS beautiful back then, I was stupidly in love with someone else back then. Needless to say, my love for that someone didn’t work out, and I started hanging out more with her.
We were both lead actors in our school play. I was the leading man, the knight in shining armor, that dances in hoodies and sweaters. She was the bully that antagonizes our main heroine, but befriended her midway through the play. She also dances. Gracefully. I am a horrible actor. She’s amazing. She gets praises everywhere, and the best part is she was always so humble about it. By then, I knew that she’s something.
After all our shenanigans with our musical play, our production stuck around and we all became good friends, including me and her. (or her and I?) And that is the start of my downfall to her, I guess.
She shouldn’t be the type of girl I would’ve fallen in love with. Well, first of all, she loves KPop. She loves KPop so much she wears KPop. I hated Kpop. I always thought that it’s the reason why the local music demand declined. But with her, I just don’t give a fuck about that anymore. Hell, because of her, I started watching these weird Kpop music videos and dances just because she loves those kinds of stuff. She has a sense of humour that only she can understand. But she’s funny without trying too hard and without hurting anyone else. We also had different religions and beliefs. That should’ve been it. But what can I say, I’m horrible at obeying. And lastly, there’s a lot of guys wanting her, not just me. I couldn’t keep up with those other guys. I’m an awful person. There’s a lot of better, more good-looking guys that are NOT assholes that she could have picked. But a miracle happened. She chose me.
It was during our trip to Manila. A mutual friend needs to go to the National Museum for a school project. We tagged along. It was a very fun day. We toured through the museum, hung out around the Rizal Park, ate ice cream, and I vaguely remember that the sun was very hot that day. Fuck that particular temperature. When it’s time to go back to QC, we rode in this creaky, rusty, old, small bus. We sat with each other and for some reason, I decided to hold her hand. I thought it’s gonna be all awkward silence and she’ll slap me or something worse, but she didn’t. Instead, she held my hand tighter, proceeded to tell these peculiar stories about her older sister and their misadventures when they were younger. We kinda had that mutual understanding thingy. And we just both smiled.
That’s it, right? Happy ever after for both of us, right? I love her, and she happens to love me back, cut to black, play that sappy Ed Sheeran song, roll credits. I wish that’s what happened. But it didn’t turn out that way.
You see, like I said, I am an awful person. For some really stupid reasons, I stopped talking to her. I started to feel afraid. We had different religions, my mum didn’t approve of her, her mum is not too fond of INC members. Add to the fact that I stopped going to school because of financial problems. I was afraid, I won’t be always there for her (her house was a 2 hour drive from mine), and I won’t give her a bright future or some shit like that. I did this twice. The second time, it was because there was too much going on in my life, we were having troubles back home, our family’s breaking apart, and I just thought, I don’t want her getting entangled on our problems, too. I know, I AM STUPID. But after all those shit, she still accepted me, she still loved me. and that’s when I realized that I don’t want to lose her anymore.
I thought I wouldn’t, too. But I did something wrong to her. For other people, that something would be nothing, they would say, oh but izz teh norms these dayzz. But for her, that’s where she draws the line.
We were at a get-together with her friends. We got drunk. She wanted to sleep it off because her head hurts. I accompanied her in the room. You see, this is the part that I can’t write without pausing or catching my breath. Because I feel so evil and I feel so bad at what happened, but more importantly because I don’t exactly know what happened. All I remembered was I kissed her and she wasn’t feeling it so I stopped and I dozed off. I woke up and she’s not beside me anymore. I may have done something bad without even knowing what it is, and that’s what scares me. Of course, I tried to know what did I exactly do, but she didn’t want to talk about it. So I stopped asking. And just like that, she was gone.
All those sweet conversations, promises, dates, hand-holdings, her love, just gone. Because of that one thing. That one mistake I made.
I begged for forgiveness, asked her to let us try one more time and I promised that I won’t hurt her again. But she stood firm. She got tired of me, which is pretty understandable because I’m tired of myself, too. I’m surprised that she got this far loving me. She said that while she still cares, she just couldn’t do it anymore.
It broke my heart.
I never cared for anyone as much as I cared about her. And those lines being thrown at me, It felt like the Atomic bomb and I’m Nagasaki. (no offense to the atomic bombings survivors) Pretty lame similes, but, I couldn’t put it into words.
But, like they say, All good things must come to an end. And loving her? I did not regret that. And I am grateful for her love, we had a great run. I just hope that she’s happy, she may not know it, but her happiness means a lot to everyone, including me.
Of course, I still wish that we can still be together someday. And seeing her online and ignoring me still breaks my heart, but C’est la vie.
The Last Good Day.
I still think about her everyday, every night. And I always wonder, does she still think about me?
theexcellentjal 