Valentines Day (HIM)

(Note: I originally wrote this way back April 14, 2011, so please bear my grammar here. Haha. I do not plan on editing this, yet.)


As everyone puts it; today is the sweetest day of the year – Valentine’s Day. The day filled with flowers, chocolates and teddy bears. Guys are now clad in their cool getup for their very much prepared dates. While here I am standing in front of the doorway of her classroom. She is staring blankly at the floor. For others they will just laugh at her from doing such a thing. But to me, whatever she does is beautiful. Beautiful as her.

I may be a year older than her but I knew a lot about her. I had a lot of secret and trusted sources and ‘informants’. A stalker? Much more of a secret admirer. A twang of decency and enigma, maybe?

She’s a girl who does not have a thing for dresses and heels and all those girly stuff. I have seen her once in her usual home getup: basketball jersey shorts from her basketball player brother and a shirt two times her body figure. She might be mistaken as tomboy but she’s definitely not. To me, she’s devastatingly and breathtakingly gorgeous.

I heard she’s single but does not want to have relationships as of her age and, what luck, neither do I. I like her, yes, but I am willing to wait for her. And I still want to get a degree and have a job with a good pay. Ahhh… silly goals I have. I am already assuming that we will end up getting married. Oh, how will I get there if I am standing here cowardly?

I don’t know why I am not confident enough to approach her and let myself in in her life. I am a very flexible person. I am a multi-instrumentalist and I can definitely sing. I play a variety of ball games but my best field is volleyball. Good thing I am 5’9”, because it’s obvious that tall girls prefer guys that are taller than them. If ever dates between are possible, I will let her whatever she wants to wear – even if she will look way manlier than me. I dislike girls who try hard to look good as if they do not naturally look good. Well she is, and she does not have to change that fact.

Her friend and her lovey-dovey approach her before they did it. The lip lock.

She looks away. Without a warning, her direction is on me. I look at her looking at me. I don’t know why she makes me lose all my mustered confidence. Her presence is too compelling. Cowardice conquered me and so I slowly walk away. I promise to myself that next Valentines I will really approach her.

Oh wait. I am already graduating this year. Great.

Well, college is a sea of people.

And I am just making up a sea of excuses.

As I am getting farther and farther away from where she is, I pause and think about my oblivious and sheer cowardice. Leaning on the wall, I fight with my negative thoughts. Do it? Or not? I rack my brains. I do not know but I find myself already walking.

Walking back to where she is…

While walking, I look on my black shoes to focus and compose myself. I do not mind if I will bump on other people. Maybe I can fend for myself from these bumps. It could shake my cowardice off.

I pause again.

Should I really do this?

But what if –

So many what ifs. Sigh.

I walk again and this time, I find myself bumping and clashing with someone.

Is this is fate finding and helping me a way out from getting rid of this cowardice and fear? It is one of a hard bump. My chest, where her head landed, has a twinge of pain. She was rubbing her forehead, covering her face. It is where she was hit, probably.

“Sorry, my bad,” I mumble nervously.

She stops rubbing and looks up at me with a smile.

“My bad, too,” she says and walks past me.

My world stops from turning.

It was her.

Yes, HER. The girl I have always dreamt of.

What am I doing here, standing and doing nothing? Then momentarily, there was an invisible kick that push my body.

Few steps. One arm reaching. One tap at her shoulder.

She turns her head at me; letting her her smooth jet black hair sways. She drew an inquisitive look at me.

This is it, coward.

“H-hi…” I paused, mustering on what to say, “…you’ll only walk home, right?”

What a question! It gives away the fact that I know that she only walks home rather than commuting.

But to my surprise…

“Yes, I do.”

Now I wish the question was different. A question like, will you be my girlfriend? Or will you marry me? Stupid. What am I thinking? Stop keeping her waiting.

“Can we like, walk together? Well if it’s alright with you, of course.”

Walk together?! My home is five kilometers away!

And to my greater surprise… she smiles and nods.

We introduce ourselves and instantly we are getting acquainted. Things between us are light and warm. We laugh occasionally; we act as if we already know each other.

As she reaches her home, she smiles at me as she says goodbye. But it is not just that…

“Tomorrow, again?” she asks.

She does not specify what ‘again’ that she meant but I knew what that is.


At that moment I realize that it is, indeed, the sweetest day of the year.


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