Maybe the first way to forget everything is trying to remember how it started and in some point how it has to end this way. One would say, you cannot put it aside from your memory unless you’d acquire amnesia or memory loss. So I’ll have to face it, maybe if I could accept this fact, I’d get better.

I write this not to solicit sympathy or pity. I have to write this in order to be free from these suffocating emotions. I got this idea from the book I’ve read authored by Nicholas Sparks “Message in a Bottle.” I hope that whoever reading this will not judge me of how foolish I was.

This is about him; not about us. This is about the weird guy who has become and will forever be my significant other.

He wasn’t my ideal guy. He was far from the perfect man I dreamed of since but he has possessed a different charm that the first time I saw him in the corner of the hall, I glanced at him twice.

And you know what they say about soul mates? Paulo Coelho in his book Brida wrote that the wisdom of soul mates is that they recognized each other. In my case, I recognized him not as a long lost friend or acquaintance but someone I’d call a soul mate.

But we’re the exact opposite, far from the idea of soul mates. I found out about this after more than a year when I first saw him. It was because I was given a chance to know him just after more than a year. And I never thought we would become like what we are right now.

Please don’t get me wrong. We don’t have that kind of relationship you thought we are; I’d say we have a special bond.

But we don’t have lots of memories. We only have rare moments together and those were I treasured and engraved in my memory and in my heart.

I found it rather odd to miss someone you barely know and you rarely see. I’m guilty of that. I don’t know why but I always miss him though I never intended to tell him how I feel.

There are times that I shout my heart out because I miss him so much. And since this is not about us, I would just want to say that in one way or another, he missed me too because that’s what he told me so.

I never expected that a day will come and I would ask myself: “Is this all?” I know it was foolish because for him it’s non sense or so I thought.

It’s funny for me to assume or imagine things because in the first place, we never talked about us. And that’s why to emphasize, this is not about us, just about him.

I’ve learned to embrace boredom in my lexicon because of him. I even learned to be patient when it was never in my vocabulary. Sadly or it’s quite sad that because of him I learn to fall again.

It’s sad in a way because it’s like imaginary or an illusion since I know, he wouldn’t like the idea. On a lighter side, it’s happy because I’ve given myself a chance to experience love in a real sense of the word and not just for the idea of it.

A “crush” can make you smile but a “love” can really make you cry. But he wouldn’t know about it and it was never his intention.

He was the guy who never opens himself freely to someone. He was always on guard. Commitment for him is in some way a waste of time; that’s from my point of view. And well, I never know him.

I just know that he’s the king of boredom. He has a happy voice that can heal a broken soul. He has a brilliant mind and I find it amazing. He thinks of things out of the ordinary which makes him unique and unusual. And for the record, he, unintentionally, effortlessly, has his own way of touching my heart.

It may sound pathetic for others when they hear about ONE SIDED LOVE; but I’d rather call it a true kind of love, love that is unconditional. That even if its unrequited, you still love that someone and all his flaws.

I once told him that I am an open wound that no doctor could ever heal. He said that maybe he can. In fact, he did. It’s just that, unknowingly, he inflicted a new wound; worse than the previous.

Sometimes, people may misinterpret the idea. They thought we want it to be reciprocated. Who wouldn’t be, right? But then, as much as we want it, to be loved in return, we are just happy to accept that even if it doesn’t turn out that way, we know for a fact that we just love and we want what’s best for the person we love. As long as they’re happy, we would be happier.

We are not living in a fairy tale world. (and how I wish we are) There are things that are out of our control and making someone to love us back is an example. It is when we love truly that we never force or insist ourselves on someone.

I’ve been into this before but I had it the wrong way. I had hurt myself because of that. Now that I know better, I only want what’s best for myself. I know, in some way, I love him with all of me but I also know that it’s time to let go.

We love but if it’s not meant to be, we also have to let go. It doesn’t mean we’re weak; it’s just showing how strong we are in giving up something we’re not supposed to have.

There are love that grows and love that dies a natural death. It never happens quickly as much as we want it badly but surely, we’ll get by.

I never welcomed the idea that I fell for him until lately that I realized, I have to get over the denial stage. It’s part of the DABDA (Dr. Elizabeth Kubler Ross’ stages of grieving)

I will never blame him because it was my fault to assume. I know it’s not a good thing but I can never blame myself also. I was just overwhelmed with the fact that someone made me feel important and I got used to it.

One day, I’ll forget how I feel about him today. One day, I’ll get over with this stuff. I’ll be done crying and grieving. One day, when I will be able to see him, I could smile like nothing happened. One day, I could be proud in saying that he’s someone that I used to love; that somehow, in some way, we were somewhere between lovers and friends. And I look forward to that day. It will come. One day.



I was teary eyed as I finished reading the letter I found at the seashore inside a Gatorade bottle. I know I’m not supposed to cry but I can’t help it.

“Gian? Are you there.” I tried to compose myself as I heard my friend Alfred called from the back door.

“Yes bro, I’m down here.” I called out to him.

As he was approaching me, I tried to hide the letter but it was too late.

He grinned and said: “What’s that bro? Are you up to something? Look at your eyes, did you just cry? Man, I can’t believe it.”

“No, no, it’s not what you think. I found this letter at the seashore.”

Can I read it?” he said.

“I’m afraid not. I found it. Finder’s keeper.” I told him and left him at my room confused.

The letter is bothering me. I can feel that something inside me has awakened from its deepest slumber. This can’t be happening but it is. I ran for miles trying to forget what I’ve just read but the words are all in my head and it struck through my heart. Can this be possible? Oh no. This is just a dream. I have to wake up. Too late because it’s real.

I went back to the seashore where I found the letter at the back of our rest house. I lay there in the sand and let the waves get near me. I tried to close my eyes and flashback exists.

It has been five long years. Five years since that day I last saw that face I will never forget, the very same day I broke her heart and without knowing I broke mine too. The confrontation was still clear to me.

Who am I to you?” She said crying.

I tried to calm her down. “Shhhh. L–isten.”

“No you listen. Answer my question so that once and for all I can get over with this because you know, this is killing me. It’s breaking me into pieces. So please, be honest.” She said, still sobbing.

And so I told her: “You are more than a friend, less than a lover, I guess?”

She composed herself that time and said: “That’s bullshit! Why can’t you just tell me that I’m just nothing?”

“It’s not like that. I like you but I can’t make a commitment this time.” Then I got loss for words.

That time she was ready to leave and before I could say a word she said: “Well then, may be you really like me, but not enough to make me stay.”

She stormed out of the rooftop.

That was the last time I saw her. The tears in her eyes pained me. Knowing that I was the cause of such heart break was unbearable. It haunted me. Maybe it will forever haunt me. Until now it haunts me. I really liked her then or maybe I even loved her but I know it was not the perfect time for us or so I thought. I still have to prove myself to deserve her. She’s almost perfect I’m afraid I can’t handle it. She’s too emotional and sensitive that I’m afraid I can’t bear it or understand it. I had so much within me that I’m afraid that time she cannot understand me.

But I was wrong. Upon reading the letter, I knew I gave her the wrong impression. I knew it because I knew she’d written it. The letter. The words hit me well. It opened old wounds. I thought that she wasn’t that serious with her feelings for me but reading the letter, I can feel it. She loved me then. I hope she still does.

The last time I heard about her was that she left for the States to live with her aunt there. Her facebook account was deactivated since that day, even her blog was not updated. I used to wait for updates in her blog because I know she loves writing but I waited for nothing. Maybe she lost interest in writing at that day and the letter was the last one she wrote. It may be coincidence that I found the letter after five years and God knows what could have happened if I was a man enough to fight for her.

She left me because I didn’t make her stay but she never left my heart.

Before I decided to go home, I wrote few words in a clean paper and put it in the same bottle she used for her letter. I would like to believe that the waves will send my love to her.

My Significant Other,

For a second, I wish the time would swallow every inch of the distance that separates us. Along with the blackest tears I’m shedding for the rest of the story is unwritten and you hold the pen. I miss you.



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