Letting go isn’t easy. Truth be told, I’ve never gotten over any of the women that I loved. I’ve been trying with Enchanted for the past while, without much success, not surprisingly. However, I’m slowly allowing myself to be released from her spell. Another failed romance, another friend to gain…
But this is a good thing, I suppose. I need to be cleansed of this hope, tainted by the undying fractures of my heart, which continues to haunt. I haven’t even had a moment with her in several weeks. The last time we did, I was telling her once more about the girl I love and made her cry.
“On the outside, she’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” I told her.
“On the inside, she’s the most beautiful girl in the universe.”
She started wiping her precious teardrops away. And while sharing photos of her late father, I made a confession.
“I love your Dad,” I said.
She started smiling at that point.
“Why?” she asked.
It was then that I held her hand in eye contact as best as I could.
“Because he gave you to me.”
At that moment, I realized again that her diamond droplets weren’t salty at all. They were in fact, the sweetest cries that my heart had ever tasted.
I admit to being caught completely off guard when I discovered that she donated only ten dollars to the Walk for Muscular Dystrophy. It had nothing to do with money, just that I was surprised at how she seemed as if she didn’t want to give. Though, it stabbed like a knife when she told me that the doctor from her work suggested making a donation.
“So of course I told him he didn’t have to,” she explained.
Was she purposely trying to hurt me? Like the time when she told me about the house that she and her boyfriend might be purchasing in the future. As I hesitated while still being kind, there was a guilt trip awaiting me.
She has to know that I’ve been in love with her since a long time ago, right? Then again, it might all be a misunderstanding. I guess what frustrates me most is that she’s still with that jerk of a boyfriend. What kind of guy jokes about getting engaged? Enchanted had to tell him to stop.
Last Thursday, I went shopping for a cap at National Sports after getting sunburned (the consequence of not listening to mother). As I made the swiftest turn to take another look at the gear, one employee caught a glimpse of me and smiled. I stopped to smile back, but hers was so darn cute.
Upon seeing the beauty that defined her existence, I wanted to love every part of her. I daydreamed about lying next to her under the bluest skies, surrendering to the sunshine that made the golden curls of her hair melt into her darker roots. In my fantasy, I whispered in her ear how much I adored her everything.
“You’re strangely beautiful,” I softly spoke, “the way you inhale and exhale, how your shiny eyes blink, and the way you’re so alive.”
“How could such loveliness be real?”
Oh, how I wanted to exist inside the rhythm of her sweet breath. Was I in adore again, with the girl without a name? In reality, however, I turned around and gave her my giant mechanical ass when she walked past me, following our strange glances. I needed to redeem myself.
So obviously, Mom had to blow my cover, revealing to Dad my little secret. It was utterly embarrassing, especially since I was in the shower at the time, naked and blushing. Then she started explaining about the birds and the bees, and how young men were attracted to pretty ladies!
When I made my return yesterday, I was a nervous wreck, but forced myself to make the move… after telling my parents not to follow me. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I just zoomed towards her way.
“How may I help you?” she asked.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked back.
“I think your smile…” I said, as I timed my next ventilated breath.
Somebody kill me now!!!
“…is adorable,” I continued. “I saw a part of your heart last week and it was precious. I had to come back to see you.”
“Can we talk sometime?”
I don’t think she heard me as the conversation halted. She developed a huge grin on her face, but kept doing her thing. I refused to give in.
“Can I have your number?”
“I have a boyfriend.”
In fear that she felt like a horrible person, I immediately asked, “You know how people feel guilty about letting someone in a wheelchair down?”
“Don’t feel bad, okay? I’ll be fine.”
I didn’t know if she was in fact worried. I simply had to make sure she was all right. I drove back to my parents all red, with ears burning.
While shopping around, Mom dragged back to that girl to ask where we could find the Nike sportswear I wanted. Nosy! I smiled at her from a distant afar and witnessed how lovely she was, one last time.
Before leaving the store, I looked into the mirror and puckered up at myself. I realized that I didn’t have balls. I had grapefruits.
“I love you, Ricky,” I whispered.
During the van ride, Dad mentioned that it was a lost cause, so I explained the importance of looking on the bright side. Although the outcome wasn’t one that I desired, even when anticipated, I proved that I was indeed a big shot, unafraid. I needed this because sadness, above all else, is the catalyst for my great romance, in life and literary form.