Of wildflowers, parallel lines and moonbeams

The first time I stared at love, I found his eyes amidst brewing social anxiety inside me. Sweaty palms, tense grip with my heart pounding hard on my ribcage, nervous. It was as if I swallowed a black hole as I force the words out of my mouth—we're Wednesday cleaners. I wonder if I have to deal with this strange feeling every time we're left alone after class, just you and me in a messy room.

The second time love met my gaze, he caught me looking at him and he didn't seem to mind. His eyes smiled at me, lips forming his signature boyish smirk,

"It was lit, right?"

I'll always be thankful for that joke of our Economics teacher, it gave me more courage to talk to you.

The third time I spent time with love, we're amongst little wildflowers. His body stiff, finding it difficult to remember the steps. He wasn't a good dancer but at least, I had the chance to hold his hand and be one breath closer to him.

The fourth time I had a moment with love, we were the killjoys who didn't want to participate in any parlor game. Christmas party. Rootbeer and hotdogs. Isolated from everyone, relishing the temporary semi-private space we had at the corner. It was fun talking to you back then as Ed Sheeran's voice floods our ears going,

"Darling I will be loving you 'till we're seventy."

I asked you to cheer me on, walking on that stage with the adrenaline being beside you gave me. You looked like a prince in a typical high school boy outfit. Did I also win your heart that day?

March came.

I recognized sadness when I desperately search for your face in the crowd, realizing that you chose to walk away without looking back. No goodbyes. Not even a glint of hope that we could be more than whatever you call us. It's the end of the school year and yet, it also felt like my emotions never had its resolution.

We chose our separate paths, contradicting time schedules. Different classrooms and canteens. I can't remember how we started talking again. I just found myself silently chuckling at your weird humor. Worlds parallel. In a heartbeat.

I didn't pass UPCAT but managed to get in PUP. I was delighted to know we'll go to the same university and meet each other again. Twenty-four months. Is it all worth it? I lay awake on my bed thinking, how big is the probability that I'll pass by you every Wednesdays? Will we have the chance to step a little further into the borderline?

It felt like sunshine and sea waves.

But then, you became my night. Cold searing through my veins with each passing time. I still think back how you moved farther away from me like a line in geometry—distance extending infinitely on both directions. But I held my ground, wanting you that much. I waited for your reply. Sixty seconds. Forty-eight hours. One week. I loved you still. Even if you gave me hurricanes instead of summer in June.

That was one of those countless times I slept with loneliness by my side.

July approached, the climax of freshman year. Glaciers started to melt, I welcomed him still, down to his baritone voice and usual emotionless face. How he sometimes speaks unintelligibly and all those other little things. Cautiously crossing storms and rainbows, rejection devouring the last moonbeams of hope—eclipse.

I can still feel the exhaustion of waiting for him to murmur something even on thin air. Sometimes, the healing wounds sting whenever memories of how you made me feel unimportant rush back, while I struggle to make you see how much I treasure you, thru chats, because you refuse to let me comfort you despite being inches away from each other. And maybe that was the last straw, me counting every step you take as you walk out the library's door. For the first time in a long while, I chose myself. Closing the book of our undone story.

It was hard forgetting love at first when he was all every inch of me ached for, deep and deep within.

A year of starless midnight skies and monotone guitars flew by.

And the fifth time I saw love, I already learned how to value myself more. I knew what I deserved—a shoulder to cradle my head on long journeys, a delicate hand to clasp in mine and a heart ready to anything love has to offer.

I had moved forward and I hope you did too because you deserve this happiness as much as I do.