A Sad Love Story

I met you at school. I was freshman back then. You were this boy who always smiles as though you don’t carry any problems at all, nods to people who know you then flash your teeth that make your eyes gone. My friends and I even laugh at how you look like a cartoon character. With every step you took, it’s as if you’re gliding, bouncing rather. With baggy clothes, we laugh harder as you passed—making you look like everything you owned were hand me downs. Your hair is even funnier than everything else put together—elephant like clothes and smiles that makes everyone think you’re mad. How could you dare to make your hair blonde? That-is-so-totally-ridiculous.

I knew you. My friend had a big crush on you. I even help her get some pictures of you through stolen shots. Oh yes I got one stolen picture of your face-still smiling with full-size yellow shirt. Your hair on that time was back to normal—without its color, it’s not that normal since it still shows how brutal you are to your hair. But I never noticed you really if not for my friend always bugging me to get a picture of you.

You were my classmate. Since the day my friend told me how she likes you, I begun to see the biggest joke attached on a man ever. Yeah I am mean. But I just can’t help it. You look real funny. Class IT310A or the Special Topics in IT was the first subject we became acquainted. After my friend get over her infatuation towards you, we never laugh at you—me that is. But help me, you were also there in IT310B! Oh well, you never change mate.

Everything was turned upside down. I don’t know how it happened but our teacher suddenly teased us. Some of your classmates started to budge us about it. Even my friends did so. But I still find you unappealing. All of a sudden, everyone was worried—my batch—since our ever dear teacher demanded us a web page using MySql, PHP, Flex, IIS and Apache. Speak English sir was the thing that crossed to our minds. Oh I forgot, you’re junior then so we assume you guys know how to guide your lower year comrades. Outrageous really was all that I could say when our teacher formed groups with us on the same crowd. Hah! I thought you were good, but heavens forbid, you don’t even know how to make a prototype database! I am convinced on that moment though that I am cursed.

The good side on you was that you’re like a sheep. You do things dutifully—like visiting your Friendster account when we were supposed to do our project. Urgh, I wished someone from the upper classmen will assist us then with you not helping, really.

You’re nice though. You crack jokes. You even made us all bored to death with your undying litany of your concern to our major project. Before I get a glimpse of what’s happening, you have my number and started texting me. My, my, but you really are a good conversationalist. You always do the step to have a topic for us to talk to.

Three months after, you became my boyfriend. We had a nice time together. You loved me and I love you. Notice the past tense I used? You left me hanging on the seesaw. And before I realize, you wanted your way out. I wanted to laugh with you on the cool breeze from the thrill of playing brought by that seesaw—a schematic of heaven. But you got bored and sought for your friends’ realm of enjoyment.

Will I wait for your boredom to be gone and have me back? Or move on to my next adventure without you? I am bleeding and would still bleed by the time you find your lawful wife. Will I ever forget you? Will my wounds heal and my heart be whole again? Will my nightmare cease? Then help me hate you.