"It's you" she said.
I remembered us having a quaint conversation weeks prior when I mentioned that I liked someone from our batch. That was the start of her unrelenting advances. And many questions abound with that; questions that I never really come to think about until that day I confessed to her.
Why was she so interested? Did this mean she liked me as well? What would happen now that she knew?
"It has been you all the time," I told her, almost to the weakening of my knees.
"Oh!" she replied, slowly fading away in to reality that she had invaded the only true realm of virility as she stepped out of the men's toilet.
A pleasant surprise it was that after she walked out on me it still felt like I was 10,000 feet up when I was finally able to spew those words I have long been keeping inside me.
Everyone in my batch eventually had known about the story and numerous questions such as, "…I heard you asked her out. Is it true?" and "…why did you?" rented the air.
The story had gone to the lowest and highest rung of the high school social strata that it had become a subject of discussion by the whole batch for the days to come.
She was not really the "hottest" girl in my batch, nor the most popular. She got along fine with the ladies but she was a constant subject of jokes between the guys because she fought back against their elvish japes which was what guys wanted, a challenge, even with their boyish deeds. She had a strong personality that I really admired, but she was also sweet and serene at times.
Things became awkward between us since my confession. I used to talk to her all the time in our classes. I used to chat with her at ICQ almost every night. We used to eat together with our friends during break time. But all came to an end when I told her I liked her. Though there was the occasional greetings there were no more of the ostensibly endless verbal exchanges.
Days, weeks, months had gone and subsequently, we were on our last night. We were supposed to stay there for three years but the duration was cut to half for some undisclosed reason, at least to me.
I was busy packing my belongings and preparing myself for a despedida dinner at a friend's place when I got a phone call. It was her. We talked for quite a while about so many things, including our issue.
I had heard from friends that she had been going out with guys from other schools, and I took that as a sign to let go. I already told her my side of the story and it was time that she put her feet forward to meet me halfway.
I never really asked her out. It came to me as a puzzle that confessing to someone didn't really constitute a proposal. Actions speak louder than words, and so I learned at that young an age.
And though unprecedented, she told me, in that very last conversation that we would be having for the rest of our lives, "It has been you all the time."
« return.