all those rage, and i'm still here?

thirty seven

"hopeless in romance—not a hopeless romantic."

I closed my eyes as I sat on the cold ground at 11:59. Once I blinked, it was as if I could tear through the phone I was holding. One, two, three more seconds...and another minute. I couldn't understand what I was feeling. The same image popped into my phone. It was a letter from someone who admired him—a confession addressed to him, his full name at the top of the letter.

I scoffed.

Not like I'm surprised. He stands out too much. He's got so many of them.

I just couldn't understand why I was affected. It was expected, at the very least. I was just a person who happened to breathe alongside him in this lifetime. No one said something about us being together or fate aligning for the both of us. No matter what happens in this lifetime, it's never going to be the both of us. It won't happen. Whenever I want someone, I always get repulsed by the universe.

It's never possible for someone like me.

Romance is never for me.

How many times had I reminded myself of that? I couldn't exactly recall. Whenever my friend said something that fed my delusion, I immediately reminded who I was in his life—no one. I happened to go to school with him, that is all.

However, no matter how many times I convinced myself to let this feeling go, there was this aching thing in my chest. I don't know what it was. Jealousy? Possessiveness?

I slapped myself as I shook my head. Stupid. He's not yours. He's not some ownership. He doesn't belong to anyone. He doesn't owe anything to you, nor your feelings for him. Don't be selfish. You are asking for too much. Know your boundaries.

Let me look at the other part of myself—perhaps it was not the admiration I was jealous of. I knew it immediately. I can't lie to myself. It was the closeness. That person could talk to him? I knew I was getting far selfish with this kind of thought, but I was mad.

That person could get a glimpse of what he's thinking. That person could hear his thoughts about things, his likes and dislikes, hobbies, and his stand in life. Or some mannerisms I hardly notice because I rarely see him.

—I hated it.

I wanted to get to know him. I wanna know what he's thinking. I want to understand him, see things from his perspective, and explore his mind. I want to see what kind of person he is—beneath the surface, beneath the face value. I genuinely wanted to know.

I guess I was jealous. Not about admiration. I was jealous of the closeness.

Or maybe I want to keep him to myself. I'm not sure how many manifestations I have to do so I could have someone like him. Those kinds of people are often too out of my league. I'm only preparing myself for the worst.

I knew I asked God that Wednesday, as I entered the cathedral and knelt in front of the altar. My tired eyes and body weakness seeped into my system. I nearly fell asleep that time. I was thinking of so much, that my mind just wouldn't stop, and the thought of him added more salt to the wound.

Please hurt me if he's not the one for me.

I often prayed. Even before. In different churches, on different Sundays of the month. God, tell me if he is for me—otherwise, I'd have to hurt my poor heart again for some person who couldn't reciprocate. Reciprocation is even more difficult. I can't even get closer to him. I was too scared to risk, knowing I'd only get hurt in the end.

Yet I cannot also force anything. That's my rule. Use force only on what I can control. Be it my goals, or my thoughts—never another person, especially whom I liked a lot.

It's now 12:21 AM, February 14, and Valentine's Day. Truth be told, I'm getting scared because I feel like I'd be getting answers later. Is he for me or should I stop? Although, there's a part of me that continues to adore him. I don't even think I can stop. God, I hate him so much. I should've been far too deep. He's affecting me a lot.

Somehow, there's a part of me that dies that his heart might belong to someone else by the time it reaches day, and I don't think I can face it. I'd break my own heart again for someone who doesn't care.

Although I can't say it's unfair.

Who am I, even, in his life?

I don't even know him as much as that person. I know. I wished I could. But how?
It seems like God and the universe are giving me signs—that it's never going to happen, that he'll only break my heart, and I'd be back to square one, completely losing all hope for romantic love.

Will I continue to hope, or finally let go of you?

Although, it never really hurts to admire you from afar. Your presence brings me peace and solace. It's a beautiful feeling I hardly ever want to let go of. I just can't.

For now, I want you to know how grateful I am that you exist. And that your existence is enough to clear my mind on the days when I experience too many intense, silent inner battles with myself.

I'm still grateful to you—always have been.