Midnight Memories

III

I cried over you.

For the first time in my life, I cried over a guy.

It was Wednesday, last week. I was at work and teasing you about not making a move.

I was getting impatient, see. I wanted you to make a move on me. I wanted you to hold my hand while we were walking, or simply crossing the street. I wanted you to give me a proper bear hug without getting shy about it. I wanted you to make an attempt to kiss me.

When you were drunk, I got you to confess that you wanted to kiss me all the time. I like it when you're drunk. You're honest, no reservations like when you're sober.

So what was stopping you?

"I feel guilty."

That was what you told me that one time I asked. You even said that if I was any other girl, you would've made a move a long time ago.

At first, I thought that maybe it was because you still only saw me as a baby who was inexperienced and maybe that turned you off.

But then, I realized that maybe you would feel guilty because you already knew that this thing we had going on was heading nowhere. I realized that this was your way of not leading me on.

And I was right.

"Say I kissed you, then what?"

You added that you're leaving in less than a month. After that, you probably won't be in Manila all the time. You didn't want to give me hope for something you weren't even sure yourself.

You said you're not into hookups anymore.

But stupid me insisted. I told you I wasn't expecting anything. I told you I was aware that you were leaving soon. I reminded you that you never promised me anything, and that you made it clear that we were just hanging out.

I assured you that this was me enjoying my time with you, and you admitted that that was what you were doing, too.

"If it happens, it happens," I said.

"Live in the moment," I said.

"Why don't you just let things happen naturally?" I said.

Clearly, I didn't know what the hell I was talking about.

You told me that guys would usually hop in right away with what I was offering because that was what all guys wanted. No drama. No commitment. Just plain fun.

But that wasn't what you wanted.

Suddenly, I got what you were trying to say. It hit me like a fucking ton of bricks.

You wanted a commitment... just not with me.

Before I could stop it, a tear rolled down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away and hurried to the restroom before anyone could see.

The thing was, I wasn't ready for a commitment before. That was why usually, I preferred "hanging out" as well. I always kept my walls up and kept an arm's length from guys. Whenever I felt myself falling for someone, I would stop and pull away.

That was me.

But then, after all these years, I finally took a risk because I met someone who made me feel ready for something more – and he just wanted to hang out.

That was why I would just rather enjoy the moment, because that was all I could do. I'd rather have you in any way that I could, than not have you at all.

But you know what's worse? 

You felt bad for me. You felt bad because I fell for you. You felt bad because you couldn't do anything about it.

And I cried. I couldn't get myself to stop. There I was, alone in one of the stalls in the ladies' restroom, crying my eyes out.

I cried over the fact that I wasn't good enough.

I cried over the fact that I wasn't worth taking a risk for.

I cried over the fact that the first guy I fell in love with didn't feel the same way.

I cried over the fact that I was crying over a fucking guy.

The hardest part wasn't that I still had to reply to your messages while I was crying. No, the hardest part was pretending to be cool about everything as I texted you back.

I replied even though my vision was blurry. I replied even though I was making loud sobbing noises. I replied even though you just broke my heart.

The last thing I wanted was for you to find out that I cried over you. I didn't want you to feel bad for me even more, because that would really suck.

That's probably the worst thing you could do to someone who loves you: feel bad for them. Because that would only make them feel inadequate.

I mean, why would you feel bad? You didn't make me fall in love with you. You didn't have a say with my feelings. You didn't even do anything. 

You were just you.

I fell in love with just you.

Even that Sunday morning when I admitted to you that going with the flow was harder than I thought, that enjoying the moment was harder than I thought, and that being chill about everything was harder than I thought... I still cried over you.

I cried over you.

And you didn't even know it.

Until now.