Juveline's Confession

Post #1

Posted on: August 16, 2015; 11:39:07PM
Username: J

Confession Title: What is sacrifice?

Sacrifice. Isn't that giving up what you want for yourself just so others can be happy? Then, is sacrifice what I'm doing right now or is this cowardice with a hint of stupidity?

It was the first week of school when I met you. You had to retake a math subject you failed with our class although you were only a year older than us. You seemed quiet and collected and smart while I was loud and cheery and rebellious. Unlike most of the usual guys I hang around with, I can't seem to look you in the eyes. Why? What did those mahogany eyes hold that both magnetized and repelled me so easily? Who were you to be the first guy I can't stare at eye to eye?

I told myself that it was just a simple crush, something I should not bother overthinking about, but how tf should I have known it would escalate far worse than just a mere liking? We talked a lot, chatted a lot, and went through trips and walks together whenever possible. We became friends and I was comfortable being with you and my new friends during my first year, first semester in college. There was something that felt so refreshing in starting anew after all those tiring years in high school, with those fake friends with fake smiles and those users that cling to you only in times of necessity.

I've had a lot of sad experiences in my life that has haunted me since. I still dream of the time I woke up to violence, my parents repeatedly shouting when I was barely six years old. I wanted to help but all I could do at that time was cry as I was shouted upon by another familiar crying face. I ran out of the house and into the garage, tried to hide under the truck, and covered my ears while thinking I could forget all that. I was wrong, I guess. I never did forget.

Most things got tougher from then, but my family became somewhat stable. I've learned a lot since then and I knew that hiding and pretending not to care would just hurt more than merely accepting the way things are. And that's what I did. I was through denying how I felt and I decided I needed to confess to you, but you beat me to it. Did you know? The day you confessed to me, was supposedly the day I was to confess to you.

You told me that you liked to treasure and protect that broken girl you enjoyed sharing your time with. You confessed to me that you didn't want her to get hurt anymore unnecessarily, due to family issues or not. You even said that you wanted to be her safety net.

You said you liked my best friend.

It hurt like hell but I did manage to confess the same night you did. Funny how much it stung when you thought of it as a joke. After all, it was my bad habit of jokingly saying that I liked you that perhaps pushed you into believing I was only kidding again. But what hurt me more was when you asked me to be your best friend; the person to help you court another girl; your bridge connected you to her, and not me. All my friends knew I liked you. Especially the girl you liked. She knew far too well. She even cheered me on. It was hilarious. I felt so hilarious. But I couldn't stop comparing. What did she have that I didn't? What was so different about us? Why would you would you want to protect her to such a degree and claim she was "broken"?

My best friend's "past horrifying events in life" include the time that her long term bf broke up with her after two years and that her father left for working abroad to gain a stable family income for her college tuition fees and their family's financial needs. This being her situation, she got what she needed; she got what she wanted. To be honest, there are times she looked like a spoiled child, spending money just to buy friends into doing what she wants where she wanted it. We were too different. I don't like not earning the things I want. I had to strive to get a couple of scholarships so I could give a few bills for my age-ridden parents since both of them are pretty much income-less. Mom never finished high school and Dad never got the time to finish college because he needed to work for the children he had with his first wife, and nine other siblings. I was the youngest, born to his second wife after he got widowed. All my other siblings already have families of their own and I was the only left studying. My third sister got pregnant in the middle of their studies which left a great impression on my parents. It was all I could do just for them to allow me to even consider college. I had no choice. I had to provide for myself. If not me, who then?

In terms of romance, I only had one other true love other than you; my first love. It was on my closest high school friend. I wasn't even aware of it until it was too late and she had someone in a relationship with her. Then there was even this guy I met through a peer and we lasted a year and a half, right after he cheated on my with his best friend who was actually his neighbor as well. The odds are all practically against me; and now you.

Am I not "broken" too? I tend to smile and laugh and be so cheerily loud most times, but that doesn't mean I'm doing quite fine. It doesn't mean I haven't been through past horrifying times of my life that have me feeling down at my first recollection. I have a lot of problems but I'd rather not talk about it because it's depressing shit and I'm supposed to be optimistic. Optimism is always a choice.

(Roll eyes here) Or so they say.

One of our mutual friends told me that you were probably good for me; that you could be better because of me. He'd probably take that back if he knew the truth regarding our relationship, my dear mother's illegitimate son.

You can't blame me. I only found out from my mother—no, scratch that, our mother—about three nights ago. And you'll know soon enough. Maybe this was the reason why I was so magnetized and repelled by your eyes. They held the same color as mine.

I don't know what to do with my feelings now but you'll most likely never know. After all, I'm only your best friend.

Your sister.

I already knew before that if I didn't let go of these feelings for you, I would have needed to bury them somewhere deep inside me. Even thoughts of you aren't allowed to leak out. But when I do get the time to wallow and drench myself in thoughts regarding you, merely one question comes to mind:

Why did it have to be you?

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Posted on: August 16, 2015; 11:39:07PM
Username: J