Story by J. K. Jimenez
I am damaged. I don't have any vivid words to describe what I feel. It's not drama or immature emotions. It is real. For years I have sought some security and deliberate intent to be loved or to be taken care of. In fact the minimum requirement is that I'd be happy. I deserve to be happy. I am a kind person.
I met this person four months ago. After a long time of avoiding complications arising from relationships and searching for the eligible, I met him. For what its worth, we enjoyed the first conversation. We did. Although we had different thoughts and principles on things, we jived. He did not smoke, drink and curse. I am the total opposite, the exact anti-thesis. We continued talking, although there were times that it would feel that he was absolutely uninterested, I pursued and hoped that finally, I have found the right person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
The first meeting was scary. We were both scared at the same time excited. I fetched him at his place and we went somewhere to road trip. It was raining. He had sweaty hands. And just like our conversations over the phone, we asked each other to sing. We were like teenage love-struck waiting for cupid to aim for our hearts. He did not have a nice voice. He was trying hard but he was cool.
After three months of talking, going out, I composed a song on Sunday night. The same night I gave him his little present. It was a Limited Edition quill, the similar quill they used in Harry Potter movies and a small container of blue ink. He liked it. It was also the same night he gave me a bar of Cadbury and a dozen of Paracetamol for my burning fever. We did a drive thru at a fast food restaurant and ate inside my car. He was a sweet guy. I thought he was the perfect guy.
The day after, he decided to tell me that all the while he was committed. He was in a relationship, a one-year relationship. As I read the SMS, I can't help my right hand to shake a little. I went speechless. I went numb for a minute while I stare at the five miscalls I have on my phone from him. He was calling, I couldn't answer. I asked him to explain why. He said he never thought we would go that far, and that he is ending it to make things less complicated. I could not understand. I was so nice to him. He told me I was not easy to love. And he cannot afford to love me, to like me, to hurt me.
A week after my sorrow, I asked if I could see him, just to have a little closure. I bought him his favorite cheesecake. He told me that we were friends. I agreed. I told him, it's okay with me, but he has to give me time to fall out. I gave myself two weeks. I asked him to answer my call after fourteen days.
I called after eleven days. He answered. And I asked him the question I have been dying to ask. I asked if, did he ever think of falling in love with me. He answered yes and that he had to make the more proper decision; that is why he chose him. I asked him out, but it seems it was already too late and he refused. After all, it was unfair to the other person. I completely understood with denial. He asked me why I was asking a lot of questions that night. I told him I wanted to know if it was right to let him let me go. I think it was right.
Four weeks after he told me he's committed, I had nowhere to go. No hope left or peace of mind. So I finally said goodbye and told him it was over. After all, I get hurt when I talk to him, same thing when I don't. I still told him I loved him and that I was hoping, but now, I could not see any hope for us. I once again built his ego. I did not want to lie. Because if I lied and denied my feelings, that would make me like him. I am not a liar. And I'm not like him.
I am damaged. I don't have any vivid words to describe what I feel. It's not drama or immature emotions. It is real. For years I have sought some security and deliberate intent to be loved or to be taken care of. In fact the minimum requirement is that I'd be happy. I deserve to be happy. I am a kind person.
I met this person four months ago. After a long time of avoiding complications arising from relationships and searching for the eligible, I met him. For what its worth, we enjoyed the first conversation. We did. Although we had different thoughts and principles on things, we jived. He did not smoke, drink and curse. I am the total opposite, the exact anti-thesis. We continued talking, although there were times that it would feel that he was absolutely uninterested, I pursued and hoped that finally, I have found the right person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
The first meeting was scary. We were both scared at the same time excited. I fetched him at his place and we went somewhere to road trip. It was raining. He had sweaty hands. And just like our conversations over the phone, we asked each other to sing. We were like teenage love-struck waiting for cupid to aim for our hearts. He did not have a nice voice. He was trying hard but he was cool.
After three months of talking, going out, I composed a song on Sunday night. The same night I gave him his little present. It was a Limited Edition quill, the similar quill they used in Harry Potter movies and a small container of blue ink. He liked it. It was also the same night he gave me a bar of Cadbury and a dozen of Paracetamol for my burning fever. We did a drive thru at a fast food restaurant and ate inside my car. He was a sweet guy. I thought he was the perfect guy.
The day after, he decided to tell me that all the while he was committed. He was in a relationship, a one-year relationship. As I read the SMS, I can't help my right hand to shake a little. I went speechless. I went numb for a minute while I stare at the five miscalls I have on my phone from him. He was calling, I couldn't answer. I asked him to explain why. He said he never thought we would go that far, and that he is ending it to make things less complicated. I could not understand. I was so nice to him. He told me I was not easy to love. And he cannot afford to love me, to like me, to hurt me.
A week after my sorrow, I asked if I could see him, just to have a little closure. I bought him his favorite cheesecake. He told me that we were friends. I agreed. I told him, it's okay with me, but he has to give me time to fall out. I gave myself two weeks. I asked him to answer my call after fourteen days.
I called after eleven days. He answered. And I asked him the question I have been dying to ask. I asked if, did he ever think of falling in love with me. He answered yes and that he had to make the more proper decision; that is why he chose him. I asked him out, but it seems it was already too late and he refused. After all, it was unfair to the other person. I completely understood with denial. He asked me why I was asking a lot of questions that night. I told him I wanted to know if it was right to let him let me go. I think it was right.
Four weeks after he told me he's committed, I had nowhere to go. No hope left or peace of mind. So I finally said goodbye and told him it was over. After all, I get hurt when I talk to him, same thing when I don't. I still told him I loved him and that I was hoping, but now, I could not see any hope for us. I once again built his ego. I did not want to lie. Because if I lied and denied my feelings, that would make me like him. I am not a liar. And I'm not like him.