Growing Up (1)
i knew you as a childish, playful, and shallow person. you used to tickle me to death when we were seatmates. you used to tease me with my other seatmate, because we were always exchanging sweet glances. and whenever you saw one of those looks, you would nudge me and say, “uuuuuuy!” i would blush. you knew he was my crush. and we both knew that he was an untouchable, because his girlfriend was the all-time campus trophy girl. and i was only one of those wallflowers, never noticed, always trampled on. i know he’s not gonna take me seriously. so i just contented myself with flirting with him and batting my eyelashes from time to time. most of the times, i felt alone, mainly because of zero lovelife. yet, i was happy with your company – you being the joker of the class and the most humorous person i have ever met. you even made me think that love was a big fat joke.
before, when i had problems, you would take me to Timezone and we would waste our time and money there until the mall closed. twice, you took me to Enchanted Kingdom to ease my pain away. i was contented with that. i never shared my problems with you. i didn’t tell you anything. you would let me cry on your shoulder, but you didn’t ask about specifics, so i didn’t dwell on details. whenever i tried to tell you issues, you would just say, “You have your girl friends for that.” and i would just shut up.
on the other hand, i never saw you cry. you were always smiling, always laughing your ass off, always playing pranks on our schoolmates. i envied you because you never had problems. and i used to tell you that perhaps the problems that were supposed to be yours all poured out on me. you would just hug me, that rib-cracking hug, and say “Gee, thanks for taking my supposed-to-be problems for me.”
it was graduation day and we were all crying. you were the only one who’s whooping and saying, “Oh my Gawd! i can’t believe i survived this school!” that night, you took me to a videoke bar and we strained our voice boxes out until dawn. the next day, my boyfriend broke up with me. and i cried again.
you did what you were always doing – buy me an ice cream. i didn’t stop from crying. that time, i was thinking that breaking up was the hardest part of living. i felt so devastated and sad and angry and mad. i felt like i wouldn’t be able to stand another day. i got mad at you too, for not doing anything to console me aside from buying me an ice cream. “i am not a child,” i said. “i’m not like you.”
you didn’t get mad at me for saying that. instead, you just hugged me and that made me madder than ever. “don’t you ever get mad? don’t you ever cry? don’t you ever feel sadness and loneliness and desolation?” i shouted. i felt weak and stupid and whatever. you were there beside me, not knowing my problem, not caring that you don’t know. you didn’t even ask me. you didn’t want me to share my problems with you. and i felt so frustrated.
“i think it’s better if i just go to my other friends. they could relate to me better than your retarded mind,” i said to you. and i just walked away.