Part One.
During first grade, I always thought that boys are obnoxious beings who do nothing but annoy their girl classmates. They are always mean and scary looking. I know that it shouldn't bother me because I was the class president and all, but still. You were my classmate, but we weren't given the chance to be close.
Second grade came and I thought I was being punished to be seated between two boys. On my left side, a little boy whom I hated for being a pain in the ass on first grade. On my right side, you. I remember being paired up with you on a dance number, and I've had so much fun. I discovered that I liked dancing. A lot. By then I could say that we had shared a few laughs and we're pretty much close to each other. I still thought that boys are obnoxious, though.
 |
You're the rockstar-emo guy.
I'm the class president who likes the color pink. |
Third and fourth went by, and incidentally, you were my seatmate. I was almost fed up by your antics, you know? Almost. Also, I almost had a crush on you. Almost. You told me that you have a crush on one of our classmates. Remember the one with the pretty mole on her cheek?
I was only able to live a whole year without being bugged by you and your childish stories of romance on our fifth grade. We're still friends, but we've chosen to be interested in different things. You, the rockstar-rebel guy that you are, chose the path of all things black and blaring rock music. I, the grade conscious class president, chose to live by the books and train for math competitions.
Sixth grade was the most stressful year of my elementary life. Graduating and all, I tried hard to be on top of our class. You, on the other hand, were interested in yet another one of our classmates. She's a transferee, and she's really cute. I didn't care at all, the crush has long since subsided.
In the middle of the year, I don't know what happened but I've heard that you and the new girl aren't a thing anymore. You transferred seats and sat next to me. Being the curious cat that I was, I asked, "Why?"
Your answer me: "I don't know. I may be in love with someone. Maybe I have liked that someone ever since, I'm just scared that she doesn't like me back. I'm afraid she's too good for me."
I thought it was stupid. I thought it was absurd. I even thought you were gay, hiding behind all those blacksneakers and statement shirts. But then one day, I came to school just to see you by the gates. Without a word, you took my things from me and carried them until we reached the classroom. I was dumbfounded, of course.You never did that to anyone aside from the cute transferee.
I wasn't stupid not to figure things out. That very same day, I asked you, "Since when?" You answered me, "Last quarter of fourth grade, when you transferred seats. I tried to stop it, you know?" I didn't answer. How old were we, eleven? Twelve? I didn't do anything, I didn't even think that what is happening is something serious. I was that matured to think that it will pass, just like any other childhood romance that I see on T.V.
Yet, it was the sweetest, most innocent thing that I have ever experienced. Looking back to that moment, I still think you were the cutest twelve year-old that I will ever know.
 |
| I cried. No one else saw that, but I know you did. |
Just before graduation month, our adviser talked to me. She said that I may not be the valedictorian. I was crushed. I tried to do all that I can to get to that spot. But after a moment, I thought, what the hell? The other candidate also did well. He's better than me in some areas, so maybe I was just meant to be the second best. I cried. No one else saw that, but I know you did. I saw you waiting by the guard house just before my school service came. I just wonder why you didn't talk to me about it.
Until now, it serves as a mystery to me.
I also know that our teacher thought you had me distracted. I hope you didn't take this seriously. My grades didn't go lower, anyway. His grades just did a zoom. No one's fault. I was able to move on in a matter of a few hours. Or days.
Came graduation day. The way we parted ways was not the most convenient. A lot of things not talked about, a lot of feelings undisclosed. I guess that's the best part of being kids, right?
No hard feelings, no grudges held. No admiration, no love to hold on to. You just move on easily. You don't take things seriously. You see each other some time in the future, and you just recollect all those memories that you'd laugh about when you remember.
It's been eight years. Funny, because I remember all these things as if they just happened not so long ago. I know you're happy now. You're the rock star, after all.
xx.
c.
p.s. My mom liked you, you know. She thinks you're cute.
