Hey guys!! This blog post isn't really a blog post at all. It's just something that i've been writing for three years, building upon what I've typed out over time. Please pretty please read this through till the end? And comment? Say something, say anything...

Anyone else suffering from one-sided loves? (haha, and I don't mean for your biases ><) In three days' time, I will be meeting up with my old group of friends, one of whom is the guy I write about below. I kinda posted this to give myself courage to say goodbye finally, and let go, because it's really killing me. I want to try to move on, and study abroad by myself in the UK next year (it's sort of mentioned below)... So, if you could read till the end, and comment, I will be so grateful! <3 Thanks in advance for giving me strength!

simplycurved into a smile when she saw him, only one glance sent her heart soaring. When they talked, she would just stare into his eyes, trying to find each and every one of his little secrets that he never seemed to want to tell her.

She wanted to get to know him better, she wanted to get closer to him. She wanted to memorise more of the little details, like the special way he held his pen, the way he held his cutlery when they ate together in the canteen, the way his right eye was sensitive to dust and sometimes puffed up, all itchy. She even knew the way he laughed by heart.

She liked phone calls with him, even though there were long awkward pauses, and they never seemed to know just what to say. She loved the way he used to drag her everywhere by her arm, and once by her hand (she’d been delighted, heart pounding a thousand beats per hour, but also terrified her hands would get all sweaty and icky). She’d been thrilled that day, queuing up to buy food in the canteen, when he’d put his chin (just for the briefest of moments) on her shoulder. She’d loved it when he’d pleaded to be in the same group as her for a science project, she’d loved it when she stared at him in class, he’d sometimes turn around, and smile at her.

She only got into playful fights with him because that was the only way she knew how to make him let his guard down before her.  So they ruffled each other's hair, and all she smiled about when they biffed each other about, was about how she was the only person he treated like this, playing together, laughing together. There was once, they were sitting together in the sunshine, and her heart beat funny, as if there was something wrong with it. But she wasn't afraid, because she was snuggled under his jacket, and she could die right there and then unafraid, satisfied. She’d go peacefully. She'd go with a smile.

'Don't ever say goodbye,' he'd said once, when they walked out together from school, to the bustop, and he'd missed his bus three times to spend more time with her, 'Only say goodbye when it's forever. So don't ever say goodbye to me. I won't say it to you either'.  And then he'd smiled, and looked so earnest, so beautiful, that she'd had no choice but to believe him. Afterwards, she'd joked that she wasn't the person he should tell those words to: save them for his girlfriend. But in her heart, she simply wanted those words to be meant for her.

And after two and a half years spent together like that, she managed to convince herself, that yes, those words were from him to her. So it came as a shock when she went to see him in his class, and he was off seeing someone else. She'd sat there, talking with their old friends, missing him, pretending she couldn't care less. But everybody seemed to notice anyway. Someone had once told her, that when they thought of him, they saw her too. Because they seemed to come as a pair. They were always together. And that was the best thing she'd ever heard. She'd been happy.

When he'd drifted away, chasing someone else who didn't want to be chased in that way, she'd felt so small, so lonely, a ship lost on the wide ocean, with no way back to its harbour—the harbour was still out there, somewhere, but the ship had no idea how to return to its old spot.

She cried herself to sleep, she stayed up listening to slow, sad ballads because they made her heart break with how much the lyrics fitted her story. She'd never tell anybody, but she missed him. Missed mucking about with him, making a nuisance of themselves. Missed looking into his eyes, when they talked, faces uncomfortably close (he'd never really gotten the idea of personal space). Missed her old spot next to him.

The New Girl took up too much of his time. And the worst thing was that she occupied the space next to him so well, fitted into it like a hand into a glove, that there wasn't any space left for her. It wasn't fair—she’d been there two years before the New Girl, but now he hardly even looks her way. And she is left watching from a distance. She couldn't help but wonder if he hurt like her when the New Girl had Yet Another in mind. Did he feel as lonely as she did? Did he cry himself to sleep too?

Thinking about things like that, mingled with some memories of their time together: that sunset after the thunderstorm outside class, just talking, laughing, and she'd felt so close. That time on the school track, when she'd tried so hard to impress him, she'd tried out the long jump in front of the sandpit, and had fallen over, getting grit in her eyes, up her nose, in her clothes: everywhere. She'd throw away everything, all for him. Only for him.

Those pictures, colours, laughter swirled around her head, and she smiled to herself, even as she sobbed. Because she'd had fun with him. She'd felt alive for once in her life.

She wanted to live again. She wanted to shove the new girl out of the way, take her spot once more. But she was afraid of breaking his happiness with the New Girl, the same way she'd been deliriously happy with him. She didn't want that to happen, as much as she was scared of being alone, thrown away, to be kept company by only heartbreaking memories of a better time. No. She dared not even try to shove the new girl out of the way. Because he seemed to love the new girl, as she loved him. And isn't wanting the person you like to be happy also love?

So she decided to back off. His words, 'don’t ever say goodbye', they weren't meant for her. He was lying when he'd said he wouldn't say them to her—he was already gone forever. There was no way for her to hang onto him. So she decided to be brave. She decided to say goodbye too.

But when it came down to actually saying that one word, she stuttered, and never really managed to. Because she still wanted to be close to him. Still wanted her old spot back. Wanted to feel alive with him again. Wanted to fool around, laughing and having the time of her life with him once more.

On the bus with him and a bunch of their old friends, they'd stood, not talking, one earphone in her right ear, the other bud in his left ear. She couldn't hear any music, the roar of the bus engine was too loud, but she'd wanted to try this at least once--she'd seen him do it with the New Girl. She'd thought she'd feel satisfied, and let him go. It didn't work.

Because on the train ride home, just the two of them (she didn’t know the way, and he was showing her), their carriage had been really crowded, and they’d been squished together, faces barely inches away. They’d stayed silent still, looking at the floor, looking at the doors—anywhere but each other. Occasionally, she’d glance his way, then dart her eyes away again, face burning. When she’d gotten off, he didn’t even look up to see her go—his eyes were glued to his handphone. Probably texting the New Girl, judging from the smile on his face.

But she was finally ready now. Perhaps in less than one year she'd go away, far far away, so that even if she ran till she dropped deap, she'd never be able to make it back to her old spot beside him. She'd be lonely at first, of course, but she'd be actually choosing to be alone, for the first time in her life. If you choose to be alone, you couldn't be lonely, right? There was a difference between being alone and loneliness, right? She certainly hoped so.

In three days, she will be seeing him again. To say goodbye.  She’d only been a friend after all.

They'd never be together again, but she'd never forget him. Because no matter what, he'd still be precious to her. It wouldn't be as if they'd never met, because even if he forgot her, she would still remember him, their time together, feeling alive by his side.

Truth be told, she'd really miss him.