I’ve liked this guy for a long time. He lived in my village and the moment I saw him, I knew that there was something different. He’s ten years my senior and I even as I got over him and found some other guys to fawn over, I would still think of him at night, wondering what he’s doing in New York and when he’s going to get back here to the Philippines. I remember his birthday even without a reminder and I woke up extra early today so that I could still greet him on his birthday. I guess, the love that I have for him stemmed when he taught me how to hold a basketball with one hand. Silly, isn’t it? But love creeps up on you in ways you can’t even imagine. I had a hard time, because I have small fingers (I was 12 then and now I’m 17 and I still have small hands) and when he held my hand just to help me hold the ball, at that young age I somehow felt my heart stir. And even now, just looking at his picture or when I think of him, I feel that stir. Silly, isn’t it? To love a guy who knows you exist but doesn’t even know about what I feel for him. Maybe, just maybe, if I grew up a little, and I would go to New York and he’d see me that I’m not the girl he used to have small conversations with. I’m going to New York on May 8 and I’m hoping that when I see him, he won’t see the scrawny 12 year old girl he used to know. Instead, he would see the sophisticated 18 year old woman in front of him. And even if we do go on with our lives, I promise, for as long as I shall live, that I will love him forever, because I am the type of person who loves a person despite all the faults he or she possesses.
Marinette (a.k.a. icouldhearthunder.tumblr.com)