Do you believe in love at first sight?
Or the better question is, “Do I believe in love at first sight?”
No matter how badly I appear as a HOPE-less, CAREER-less, MONEY-less babaero writer, would you believe I still do?
Infatuation is a different thing. Being physically or psychologically attracted to the mental projection of another person’s digital self for a period that will last definitely not for a lifetime but until that moment you find someone else better or at least realize it’s just the radical change in the chemical composition in whatever part of your body – you just in some way get over it.
But sustaining that indescribable feeling for about nine years is a whole different story. Many things have changed but at the back of my head, etched in a corner of my heart and deep inside my consciousness, I know that it’s still there. I just know.
Everything started when I was in first year college. Fresh out of a not-so-coed high school life (girls and boys are in separate classes), the experience of being one-foot way to several girls of different shapes and sizes, brings an unusual sensation that makes me tickle all over.
First day of classes. My two kumpadrés and I establish our presence in an unfamiliar territory by checking out the babes – in class and in the nearby classes as well.
Second day of classes. The usual babehunt continues – but now even bigger.
Third day of classes. The forest full of exotic creatures turns into a safari of wild breasts. I mean wild beasts. (Typographical error on bReasts ;p)
More days passed. And more weeks passed.
Then suddenly, while I was standing in a crowded corridor, out from a sea of striking white uniforms, she passed by and the magic happened.
I am not fond of romantic movies but that slow motion scene where the love interest of the leading actor fills the screen with her overflowing hair and Close Up smile while walking to the tune of “Close to You” by The Carpenters turns out to be real.
But I didn’t hear bells ringing or birds chirping. I didn’t even hear Close to You. (Thank God) I was aware of the surroundings. I was hearing the familiar sound of marching college students while laughing and chattering. But at that very moment when I first laid my eyes upon her, I heard the slow rhythmic beats of my heart – every single beat. Seven seconds of seven strong heartbeats felt finitely forever.
Months passed. I could still hear the intimate heartbeat ascribed only to her every time I see her.
A year passed. I just wished she could hear my heart screaming out her name.
Two years passed. I felt my heart wanted to shed out tears knowing that I haven’t done anything in the past two years.
Three years passed. I missed the opportunity to be with her. I still didn’t have the guts to tell how I exactly felt for her.
On the fourth year, I tried to forget about her by compromising into a relationship.
Five years passed. She always filled my mind and spirit every time I had a break-up.
Six years passed. At least I got a chance to talk to her over the phone. Nevertheless, I still didn’t have the guts to tell how I exactly felt for her.
Seven years passed. Many things had changed. The feeling grew more and more, richer and richer, deeper and deeper. As my love for her began to meet its peak, I started to realize she deserves someone better.
Eight years has passed. I could only wish that I am the perfect person for her. But I know I am not. I love her to the point of letting her go. I want her to be the best that she can be with the best person she can be with. Not the HOPE-less, CAREER-less, MONEY-less babaero writer that I am.
Now if you ask me, what’s the difference between infatuation and love at first sight?
Eight years.
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