In school, we try hard to remember. Remember all those terminologies, all those lessons, all those skills… In life we try to forget. Forget the pain, forget the hurt, forget it all. But the more I try to forget, the more I remember. The more I remember that impossible stupor. Memorizing is a skill; forgetting is an art.

Sigh… so many regrets, so many chances, a lot of wasted time. If only she knew, then maybe, I wouldn’t feel miserable. If she’d just reject me outright, I’d be happy to get this over with. But no matter how I try to forget… I remember. And it just piles up and clutters in my mind and makes me feel so miserable. Infatuation? I know what you’re thinking. Maybe you’re right, maybe she’s not the one for me. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. A good friend once said: “Don’t rush. Find the right one for you. There’s someone out for you.” And he’s right. I shouldn’t let my dreams die because of my emotions. I shouldn’t let my life be ruined because of this thing called puppy love. I shouldn’t let God’s plans for me go to waste, just because of her.

It feels so good to have someone to talk to. My experienced friends help me get through this. When I told them how I truly feel, it’s as if a large yoke has been unburdened. And the more I let go of this selfish feeling, the better I feel.

When I was young, I thought that the angst of adolescence would be nothing to me. I saw my older brother go through these very things, and I thought to myself: “How foolish. I won’t feel that way. I’m immune.” And now I’m eating my words. I’m now feeling what my older brother felt before. The feeling of hope and despair mixing like oil and water, in my heart. But learning from experience, decisions shouldn’t be made with mixed emotions.

I refuse to admit, but love has taken its place in my heart.

A good priest said in his Homily: “Love is not a feeling; it is a decision.” This sends me into a deep thought about myself. Am I ready? Am I prepared? Am I strong enough? No. I’m still immature. I’m still too chicken to commit. Oh, I know this feeling, love. It’s great but I also realize that it exacts sacrifice and surrender. That’s why I’m afraid. I’m afraid of hurting and losing the hard-earned trust of those around me, my family and my friends. I’m afraid of hurting myself, of losing control, of losing everything that means much to me. I’m afraid of hurting her, I’m afraid of destroying her future. She’s a promising woman. I won’t ruin her life.

The worst is yet to come. I’m not being pessimistic here, but I do realize that there will be more hurts to face, more rejections to accept. I have to move on. I have to let go.

It’s as if a loved one died illustrates how I feel. It’s as if… love died in me.

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