April 11, 2014
They were still practicing the songs when I came. I occupied the assigned seat and fiddled with my phone in-between picture takings. I just could not risk taking a long look at him; I just couldn’t. His mood was somber. Was that normal for him? I continued fiddling with my phone then he caught our attention for the practice. He was not as funny as before; even his best-est friend commented loudly how serious the music team had become. He taught us the songs; one of my seatmates remarked on how good his voice was. I smirked, of course. The time my long-time secret love contacted me for some small talk, I suddenly just heard this guy singing inside my head. His mellow voice got stuck on my mind for several days, before even realizing “Do I like this person?”
He was really somber that day. I wondered why. And he was not out there having harmless flirty fun with his posse, even with his best-est friend in the world. I did wonder. What had changed? And I found myself staring, maybe a little bit too hard on him, even when I was focused on trying to get the tune right.
Then we came to this action song. We were too shy to follow suit. But there he was, being patient as he was encouraging us to dance and sing. It was as if at that moment the world was hanging on the balance: if we do not engage, they fail. Nonetheless, I felt proud of him, and I just smiled, smiled and smiled for everyone to see. Especially for him. An encouragement on my part, whether he needed it or not. Wait, what?
Nonetheless, nervous giggles gave way to squeals of laughter as we tried to copy the simple moves. I felt good doing that action song. And I believed I have smiled truly; the others were enjoying it. I saw his eyes on mine, and the crack of uncertainty in his tense face gave way to a sense of relief and for the first time that night, I saw his carefree smile shine through. Certainly deserving of a sweet smile in return.
After the group discussion, we saw him don another creative cap and took pictures of ours. He called me by a different name again, and joked about something. I couldn’t help but reply back, all the while maintaining a rarely long eye contact with him. Who knows when I’ll be able to do this again, I thought. I felt good, wickedly f- good. And that scene when his tense face relaxed with immense relief; I couldn’t help but recall with good vibes, how his face betrayed those emotions within seconds, and my farfetched, crazy notion that I did it to him. Yeah, girl, crazy.
He’s so f- creative I envy him. I feel like he’s the missing piece. Oh our Father in Heaven must be shaking His head sympathetically as I whisper his name for the nth time, as I wish he is the gift God has promised me. I love him, perhaps, but my mind is logically telling me not to say those words, it might trigger the curse. The curse of loving a guy who doesn’t love me back, or is just unavailable. I just don’t want to go through this anymore. I do not want to hurt somebody in the process. But I hear his singing voice again, I remember the fiercely blushing cheeks, and all the worries I forget. I am not afraid to fall again. I know God will protect my heart. And I know He will not let another soul get too hurt in the process. For once, I decide I will enjoy this experience of love, whether he loves me too or we are not for each other. I vow to myself, regardless of the consequences I will thoroughly enjoy this.