Young Blood

Things I will not say


I am blaming the chick-lit books that I have read. I am blaming the romantic comedies that I never get tired of. Ted Mosby, I am blaming you, too, for turning me into such a hopeless romantic.

It started the day I met you. We instantly hit it off and we became comfortable with each other. Pretty soon, my inbox was filled with messages from you. I told myself that you were beyond nice. I was amused at how simple and funny you seemed to be. Your little gestures made my stomach churn. I could not believe how I was starting to like you because you were not exactly my type. However, I could not exactly pinpoint why you felt like home. I found myself acting horribly silly, such as blankly staring at people and smiling while I was thinking of you. All I knew was that I felt a strong need to get to know you. It is such a shame that you never seemed to feel the same way, too.

This is a strong case of infatuation—an ardent desire and longing that can only be experienced by someone who is accustomed to being alone. For the first time in my life, I understood why Disney princesses were always waiting for their prince charming. Worse, for the first time in my life, I felt the need to be someone else’s other half. In an instant, I saw myself break down the walls that I have built from young love and failed romances. I watched my numb self drown in daydream. I had a glimpse of an elusive chance.

I cannot tell you how sick I felt when I found out that you’re in love with someone else. I would not be the one to spoil your happiness. I could not bother you with all my thoughts and feelings since I can clearly see how elated she makes you feel. I never seemed to have that effect on you. Somehow, you will never know exactly how I feel about you. You will never know how giddily I acted whenever I received a simple “Good morning” text from you. You will never know how crazily I danced to a Taylor Swift song when you asked me out. I cannot tell you that when I leaned toward your shoulder, I never thought of an escape plan. I cannot tell you how forgettable and dispensable you made me feel. I cannot simply repress how I watched you sleep that one lazy afternoon. Most of all, I cannot forget about that kiss.

You came. It’s either you’re a lesson or a blessing. I would like to believe that you are a little bit of both. Maybe we meet some people to make us realize that no matter how cautious we are, we all have the tendency to be crazy and delusional when it comes to love. Maybe we met for me to realize that it is okay for me not to hold back because love strikes unexpectedly. Maybe not all love is meant to be reciprocated because chances are not for everyone to take.

I am not going to tell you all of these because I know I will get lucky the next time. Someone is bound to fall for my awkwardness, dreams and insecurities. I am not going to tell you any of these because somehow I know my other half is on his way searching for me.

Cheenee Bagtas, 23, is a registered nurse and a graduate of Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila.

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Tags: cheenee bagtas , column , human interest , love , Romance , Young Blood

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