I can still vividly remember his luscious smiles with braces on it and how it lightens up my gloomy face, those tantalizing eyes that means a lot whenever he stares at me, his snobbish attitude that attracts me even better, and those sweet gestures that made me fall for him even more. I shuddered in delight every time we’re together. I can feel the love and care in his arms, the joy that gave light to the dinginess of my life.
Those small talks we had always made my day complete. He gave meaning to my life and made feel complete amidst the numerous things I lack. I have learned to disregard my family. I seized every opportunity I had to be with even if it means disobeying my parents. It never
mattered what my parents would say, for I never listened. For me, what matters is the happiness I feel whenever I am with him, whenever I talk to him, whenever I laugh with him.
I was this stupid person who fell for a guy —the guy who showed me how love can be playful. I expected and assumed too much. He told me, he liked me, but I was just tricked by those sweet words and gestures of him. I was just played with and then thrown like a trash, saying “I don’t want you to expect too much”.
How will I not expect?
I was hurt; my heart was totally broken. The pain was too much to bear. It was uncontrollable. I did not know what to do. Because of too much pain, I let myself drown in liquor.
Soon enough, my body reached its limit. I can hardly breathe. I was trying to keep my eyes open as I was losing consciousness. All I can see is him standing in front of me.
I woke up at the hospital. As I opened my eyes there stood beside my bed are my parents. I am too ashamed to face them, to talk to them. All I can think about is how I disobeyed them, disappointed them, how I greatly destroyed their trust.
I’m still too immature. I promised myself that I’ll never fall to the wrong person again. I’ve learmed not to expect too much out of sweet words and gestures. I’ll never enter in a serious relationship unless I’m ready and mature enough to handle things.
Written by: Marydel Mitch Flores
Photo Credit: Mac Simbajon