To the boy who will never know how much I love him,
There are still moments when I am reminded of the time when your dimples caused me to take a second glance at you, checking if the smile was for me. Those were small deep holes on a face of a brownie, of a boy who seemed to have a lifetime supply of positivity. I would never know of course if you were smiling at me, because I never took a chance to smile back.
There are still moments that take me back to the first time I got to know your name. Knowing your name flooded my heart with a unique kind of joy. How I froze when you reached out your hand to clasp mine, sealing a what would be like a special kind of friendship. After that, I immediately found myself writing your name on loose sheets of paper, on my literature notes, on my science laboratory reports, on the closing fly of my textbooks, even on thought clouds. However, only I would ever know that it had felt that way for me.
There are still moments when I turn a leaf of a page of a book you have borrowed from me once, listen to an old love song whose lyrics I have written on a bookmark for the book, or pass by a spot that we used to share to talk about common people and common lessons and common complaints about cafeteria food or unfavorable class schedule, and I start to think about the little things that I forced to ignite a spark between us two. Back in the days, we also often talked about how it had been much of a coincidence how we always found each other needing the same book, looking for our classrooms on the same floor, or walking our way home at the same time. What you didn’t know was that nothing was coincidence. I knew you would be there and I wanted to be in the same place and time with you.
There are still moments when I am stuck at replay of the time you would mindlessly hold my hand to see if a ring taken off a Coke tin can would fit my finger; or of the time when you run off a basketball game to break the news to me that you have ended it with the girl you used to like; or of the time I got too excited to see you the day after you got your freedom back, leaving a request of your heart for me to wait a little, but when I did see you, you were still with her, and I could not stop the tears from falling with the raindrops that felt like the skies were crying for me that night. The moments were like scenes from a chick flick that seemed to be having its share of dramatic irony. I can still memorize the sound of my heart breaking and you never knew you have caused me quite a lifetime of pain.
There are still moments that I have wished to undo so many times: taking a second glance at you, reaching back for your hand, stopping to hear you out, sitting right next to you, walking home with you, sharing the same staircase and hallway with you, using the same book, and liking the same songs. I wish to undo all of them because they have led me to the agony of waiting for you to like me. I have liked you since the first day I saw you smile and I looked back to see you smile again, up to the last day you walked away and looked back to flash the sweetest smile I have ever seen, and I would never see again. You would never know how the longing of my heart to see you smile again has brought upon me years of torture whenever moments that remind me of you seem not to mind a good time to be felt once again. These moments just barge open the door to my heart that has never find its closure and then start ripping off the stitches of the heartbreak that you have left me.
There are still moments when I wish I could say all these things to you and you can actually see me straight face with that oh so beautiful smile that has swept me off my feet, and tell me if these moments that I have kept hidden in a special place of my heart only for you, also mean something to you, or maybe not. But I could only wish the impossible. This is perhaps why time is of the essence when you are in love. We cannot always say that there will be another time to say the things that our heart screams.
When the boy that you like smiles at you, there should be no doubt nor worry. Go ahead and smile back. When he bumps into you in the hallway, borrows your book for history class, walks home with you, even if you have gotten everything planned out by securing his class schedule and list of subjects, go ahead and give him a hint of your feelings or tell him right away. The worst thing you will probably get is rejection. At least you won’t have to nurse a broken heart and never have known what he feels about you the first place. You could move on and look back to the memory of him as the boy you used to like but never liked you back, rather than a boy who never knew that you loved him.
This is our catastrophe. You will never know. Or maybe you know already, but how would I know that you already do? What would you want to tell me now? How would you seal the open wound of my broken heart? A couple of years or so after I last saw your smile, I heard that the angels paid you a visit a lifetime too early. I would like to believe they also fell in love with your smile. I appease my heart with the thought that your smile would make heaven even brighter. I have comforted my sad heart with the thought that you are a bottle of positivity and heaven would be a perfect place for you. Since then, I thought of the times when I would have weary good night dreams and sad daydreams about you. I seem not to run out of prose to write about my unrequited love, of a little crush that has never known closure, of a special friendship that I will forever miss. I guess I cannot stop writing love letters to heaven just yet. It is taking me forever to forget you but could I blame you? That smile. Those dimples. My heart cannot rest with thoughts of you. There will never be goodbyes for now, as my heart continues to ache. It feels bad to be among the people who were not given the chance to say goodbye to you, the boy who will never know that I love him.