to firsts*

To the first boy I liked,

It’s funny how it’s been six years since I first saw you.  I was twelve and you were thirteen.  Walking along the pavements of Beijing was one thing I thought to be ordinary, and everything else that followed after that.  Have you ever thought about what your childhood was like? Or as I, think that the life you’ve lived before was but a dream?

I always think about what would have happened if I hadn’t seen you, the boy with the sparkling whites, side-beaming as you looked on at the Forbidden City, and your cap strategically twisted on your head.  Your eyes crinkling, I still remember, after all these years.

I have stopped the infatuation I’ve harbored but yet, I still see you, look for someone of your standard.  Why? Why is it that I still do even if I can proclaim with conviction that I have absolutely no feelings for you?

Maybe it’s because of the mere concept of firsts.  We may be quite over the first of everything, but that lasting impression of a new experience will stay.  You were the first boy I liked, and who knew? At twelve, I could not comprehend the times when I would smile or have my heart rate increasing whenever you would pass by.  Your voice was all I heard and I was haunted by the echoes in my memory.

It’s funny how it took so long to get over someone like you.  You were different… not that all the other guys that I’ve liked were any more unique.  They were all one-sided, just like you.  They never returned the feelings that I’ve had for them, just like you did.  I would cry secretly in the interior of my bathroom when you would say things that would hurt me.  Call me attached, but what was I supposed to feel at twelve? I couldn’t understand nor could I interpret the feelings I was feeling.

Six years have passed, and I still don’t understand what it means to be in love (or infatuated, just so the term is much lighter).  I see couples holding hands, but I subconsciously think that the mere idea of it all is finite.  It ends at some point.  I don’t know what I’m talking about because again I couldn’t comprehend.

Allow me to remember you just for today because I feel like I have to.

Just to see if I’m really over you.

And I can tell that I am.

But do hear me when I say I can never really forget you because you were the first boy I liked and who pained me at the same time.

Ships will never look the same to me again.

*taken from my old blog

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