The Thing With Falling InLove is…

The thing with falling in love is that it just happens. It is something beyond your control. You see him and then you start talking to him and then you fall. You do not realize it first. You become friends, watch movies together, have coffee and eat dinner with him. Then your friends start asking what it is between the two of you and you simply say the overused phrase we-are-just-friends-period. But then he starts dating some other guy. You know you should be supportive, be happy for him, give him sound advices and you do. Actually you try. Then a tinge of pain comes out from within. Your hands become sweaty, your heart beats faster and the lines on your face appears. You fell uncomfortable joining him in his happiness. Happiness that you feel you should be part of. Then you feel guilty for being so selfish. You are just friends anyway, you tell yourself. But somehow it is so hard to accept. Then a friend slaps you with reality saying you are in love. You retaliate by saying it is impossible but deep down you start believing. Yes, you are inlove. And there’s no getting out.

Then without asking, you drift away from him, not returning his phone calls, not showing up on your regular coffee dates. You begin to be tired or busy with work but you know its all stories. Stories you made up just to avoid him for you know you’d get hurt.

You know you should tell him the truth but you begin to have reservations. You know he’s happy with the other guy and it would be stupid to ruin that by confessing your love for him. Then you try to direct your attention to someone else, trying so desperately to escape the fact that your heart cries him. But you don’t listen to those cries, in fact you have sex with other men just to prove to yourself you can move on, that what you feel is just jealousy because his attention is not yours anymore. You convince yourself that it’s not love. Then you have more sex with strangers, even trying to be in a relationship with one of them. But the relationship fails because your heart is not there. Your heart won’t cooperate. It has its own mind. It is uncontrollable.

And then waste your life in bottles after bottles of beer. You go to Malate alone during your days off. You get drunk and go home with some guy you met at the dancefloor. Then you have sex with him and leave his pad in the morning and then you realize he is not your type. But you were too drunk to even care the night before.

Then one day you wake up wondering what you are doing with your life. You start seeking for help. Then after work you unknowingly pass by a church. You are hesitant to enter at first but still you do. You sit in one corner and face the edifce hanging on the wall. It is a wooden thing they call Jesus. You notice tears falling from your eyes. You let it. The feeling is overwhelming that you just let it flow like a bag of water which is suddenly released. You start to kneel and speak. You are talking to that edifice, asking for answers, questioning the world, questioning your entire being. After hours and hours of crying, talking to nobody, you suddenly feel lighter. Your burden suddenly disappears and then you notice it is already lunch time. Then you stand up and start to make your way out the church. The sun is up and your eyes are still wet from crying. Then you try to reach to your pocket for a hanky. You wipe your eyes with it and started heading for the road.

While you are fixing yourself, you hear a screech of a fast running car. You try to run away from it but it is too late. The next thing you know, you are dead. The news the following day contains a picture of your unrecognizable lifeless body on the frontpage, your face covered with a piece of newspaper while people are feasting around it.

And then he reads the newspaper. He knows about what happened to you. Then he starts crying. If only he told you how he really felt for you, that the guy he was “dating” was just his friend, that he was just dating him to make the guy’s exboyfriend jealous. He didn’t tell you this because he knew you’d think it’s ridiculous, that you would make fun of him. When he finally decided to tell you the truth, you are already gone. He feels betrayed by you but he loves you that much to get mad. Then he blames himself for what happened to you. If only he was honest. He cannot take the guilt and one night while drunk, he jumped off from a building. Dead.