The facts are straight: there was never an “us.” Not technically. So Why Do I Feel Like There Was?
You see, we were never together, and no, I didn’t change my Facebook status from “Single” into “In a Relationship.” I was his, but he was not mine. We didn’t have labels. But you don’t need labels to feel anything.
The trigger was probably the thought that maybe it would be different. That maybe, it would finally be him. That maybe I won’t end up alone, scared or hurt.
It all started with the meaningless drinking, laughing and teasing — they were pairing us up, and we played along fine. At first, it was funny for us, and we went on like we didn’t care because I knew, I was certain, that I would never fall in love with him. But then I remember the moment when jokes became half-truths. That exact moment when I dared to transcend the line between silly and serious. That moment when I started writing about him too. And I wondered if it’s real already, and I asked myself as everybody around was laughing — as I looked for clues — whether he thinks it’s still funny.
But then again, I should have known that I would fall for him first because I have a fondness for guys that will never like me back; I just gravitate towards them.
Looking back, I can say that it was nice at first. He always made me laugh, he was my drinking partner and we had so many things to talk about, ALWAYS. I wanted to be always near him. I felt calm just knowing that he was in the same room. I wanted — needed — to see him every day. His voice became my favorite sound. It was all warm and I felt happy because at the end of the day, I knew that I had him. Or at least, I thought I did.
But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that we really had nothing but just platonic friendship. I am even scared to say now that we were flirting because what if those moments between us were just a delusion? Because he never held my hand, or we never went out alone, or we never saw each other naked. What we had were words, laughter, whatsapp messages, glances, slight touches. Maybe we never really flirted, and maybe it was bound to stop after things get serious. Perhaps it was all a delusion, after all. But it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt any less.
I am scared that people would call me stupid and tell me that I only saw what I wanted to see. Even though I have this urge to explain to people why I feel what I feel, I realize that I’m not obliged to do so because these are my emotions — and they wouldn’t understand, anyway.
I know it will be more difficult to forget about him because I just didn’t like any one thing in particular about him, like his eyes, or his smile, or his dimples, or his dorky laughter. I like him beyond the physical, because I like him as a whole. And, most importantly, I liked myself when I was with him — I got a glimpse of how it is to be in love.
And maybe, that is enough. Then again, I now see him with her and it all feels like it’s rushing back. Those feelings of disappointment, yet another run away. Another heartbreak? Heartbreak from what? Not Love, Not Friendship. Disappointment of what? Expectations? Is that it?
I only Expected? I din’t Love. So why does it feel this way?