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Bencio David, Student Stories

Broken


Bencio David | Opinion

It took me months to get over this feeling. Sleepless nights. Sudden run of tears. Endless questions inside my head. Why did you make me feel this? Why were you special to me? Why did I love you?

I can’t recall when it started or how it came to be like this. All that remains alive are the quick beats running after one another beneath my chest.  That ecstasy whenever you call my name just to say hello. That sensation which seems to be very familiar yet feels unusual. Perhaps, movies and novels have unconsciously infused it to my consciousness. But this time it makes sense. It’s real.

I must be in love.

I get more and more frenzied every day. I want to scream to let everyone know how much I love you. I want to grab your hands tightly and take you to a place made for us. I desire to steal a kiss. I long to run my fingers on your hair, rub my body against yours and passionately make love with you under the moonlight.

The nights are filled with fantasies. You are closely sitting next to me so I may serve as your warmth against the brisk wind. We share a cup of warm coffee as we talk about our lives…together. We laugh. We kiss. We love.

Days are illusions as the emotion totally captures me. You are always in my mind and I almost want to talk about you every time. I get blinded by those dazzling eyes. Warm hugs and torrid kisses are leaving me in euphoria. But at the back of my mind, everything remains frenzy ideas, fantasies and illusions.

I don’t want to lose my clasp on this tough feeling. If I do so, I may be broken. And yes, I’m afraid to be rejected because I know that telling how much you mean to me shrouds a sweet goodbye. But I don’t want to be haunted by what ifs. So I let my thoughts and words explode to give me that same strength that comes from a can of cold beer.

At one dinner with our friends, while you watch the dancing water fountains through the glass pane, I sit beside you feeling a bit chilly. You ask if I’m okay. I said no, and you immediately ask why. I remain silent until you halt it with a simple who. I revert back to my senses and look at your face. Then I whisper, you. This single yet most special word makes you smirk and ask if I’m serious or sure.  I smile at you and say, yes! I am. Definitely, I am.

We walk until we reach the taxi bay. Inside the cab, I sit beside you. You are trying to conceal your mixed-up emotions with glances and grins. I lean towards you to ask if I can lay my head on your shoulder. You selflessly nod and let my head rest on you. The entire drive is just so magical that it makes me wish time to slow down. I close my eyes and attempt to record that sense of comfort—so I can replay it whenever I feel alone; because soon enough, the spell is bound to lose its power.

I get home and rapidly send you a message. I thank you for the wonderful night and for making one of my thousand dreams come true—to rest my head on your shoulder. Finally, I am able to let you know that you are the most special person to me. It’s enough that you finally know it. I don’t want to play a silly game called love-me-if-you-dare. You tell me that we can’t be together but you attempt to comfort me by saying someone better is waiting for me. Some things just remain forever impossible, and I accept it.

I will be fine, I tell myself. But I am wrong. It makes me sad that we can’t be together. I realize I formulated a sweet poison for myself. The wonderful feeling that used to make me happy slowly kills me now.

I feel your coldness. Things certainly change. You are so near yet so distant but I try to act normally. I try my best to get over everything that has happened but the feeling is just so strong that I can’t escape from it. It has completely arrested me and left me defenseless.

I pretend to be okay just to make you feel comfortable. Yet nobody knows what’s inside me. Unspoken words gently stiffen my muscles—like a rigor mortis while still breathing. At one point, I realize that I am caught in my own trap. However, I never regret I have let you know you’re more than a friend to me.  I don’t want to be unfair and betray you.

The load becomes too heavy until I can’t bear it any longer. The days that used to be filled with hopes suddenly leave me with sleepless nights, hasty flow of tears and endless questions inside my head. Yes, love hurts. Love makes one cry. Love kills. When I believe that I’m okay, a glance at you proves me wrong. Your mere presence deepens the wounds that this crazy thing has brought me.

Days and nights are all pretentious. The magic is gone. I am back to reality. And now, I really don’t know how to get through it. But I do perfectly know that I don’t regret what happened.

This must be life’s way of making me understand that Love can never be one way. It hurts, but I need to let you go on and find what gives you happiness.

Sometimes, fighting for my own love is trying not to love at all.

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The official newsletter of the UP Asian Institute of Tourism.

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