My First Story

There are a lot of sayings in my country when it's new year. One of those things says that whatever you do on the first day of the new year, meaning Jan. 1, [insert whatever year], you'll be doing it for the rest of the year. But I know it's not true because on those first few days, people adhere to their New Year's resolutions. As time passes, these resolutions become, well, good things to be listed as resolutions again for the following year . So it is not true that whatever is done in the first day will go on forever or at least for that year.

In this first entry though, I would like to play it safe; I will follow the tradition. I will do what I want to happen for the rest of the time I'll be posting entries in this blog; I want to be honest--to a raw degree. Because over the years, I learned the art of denial so well, I've forgotten how transparency to oneself works. 

My first heartbreak with a girl:

The first time I genuinely loved someone happened in my first year. We were friends at first, then I began to admire her because of her animated, funny and random personality. I hung out with her frequently, spent many weekends sleeping over her house, eating dinners with her and tagging along in parties. I just wanted to be near her as much as possible. I tolerated her criticisms on my poor fashion sense (if I even had one that time). But now I'm thankful for that influence. It has become very handy. Then whenever I came home, during Christmas or sem breaks, I told my parents stories, mostly about her. I don't know if they had a clue but they listened anyway.


The conclusion of the school year was approaching and it pressured me to make a decision--to be or not to be... I chose the first. When I confessed to her, she asked me to choose, either we remain friends and I forget about how I feel for her or she will distance from me so I could move on from her. It didn't take me long to think because I did treasure the friendship we had and secretly hoped by some miracle, she would eventually requite my feelings. I tried to ride on with it at first. But as it went by (and looking back now),  I unconsciously separated myself from her. I went back to hanging out with my other friends and enjoyed the last few weeks in their company despite the truth that I ached to be with Her. 

She noticed that we were drifting and she asked me twice what was happening. The first time she asked, I only shrugged and smiled. Because at that time, I was so confused with my feelings. I wanted to be close to her yet I felt it was useless. I guess frustration grew and I just decided to drop it. The second time she asked, it was with the help of a common friend.  Luckily, this common friend is a trust-worthy person. I told our common friend how I felt and I knew our friend tried to understand me. After hearing my side, our friend explained what Her, the girl I loved, was feeling. Our common friend explained that She felt like I was the one making the issue worse and that I shouldn't blame her for it. But I wasn't that immature. Again, reviewing things now, I must have failed to explain that I was badly hurt. I didn't want to fake that everything was fine because the pretense was only hurting myself more. Maybe, if I had conveyed this, She would have understood. But I didn't say it. She must have  felt abandoned as my friend. 

I spent the summer recovering, reviewing everything that happened. I realized I was so preoccupied with her that I forgot there were other things in life that I should do. The second year arrived and I learned that she and our common friend didn't make the quota so they both transferred to another school.

But despite the tangible distance, one instance drew me again to her. I was with my best friend that time, on our way back to our college dorm when I got a call from Her. She me asked to go to her place and meet our common friend (the same friend I mentioned). She said it was an emergency and that she badly needed my help. So I asked my best friend to just tag along, anyway, I had long wanted for them to meet. We went to Her place and there I met our common friend, just as I expected. But her father was there too and it was something I did not expect. 

That wasn't the first time I met Her father because I've also had lunch with their family (and clan) many times before. Her father apologized for her and clarified that they were having a family problem (which I won't delve into because it's a whole other story). To make the long story short, her father asked me to stay over so our common friend and I can talk. A gentleman that he is, he offered my best friend a ride back to our dorm.


Over sticks of cigarette, Common friend and I had a nice talk about what happened. We were on the upper part of their double-decked bed, our hands were hanging out of the window trying to keep the smell of smoke from sticking on the walls and bed sheets. She said she admired my loyalty but I countered it, and in the process, admitted my residual feelings. But what I did not add is that I felt used that night. In the months that we were apart, She never contacted me for simple things like a friendly chat. She knew I would do things for her so to execute her plan smoothly, she suddenly called and asked for my help. I felt my feelings were taken advantage of and I hated it. The following day, I went back to the dorm. Since then, I've completely avoided the first girl I loved.