I don’t know if you know any of these. But I want you to know now.

It might not be a good timing. And it is not exactly a confession. It’s just those little things I felt between us.

I remember I didn’t like you at all when we first met. I thought you were one of them, those pretentious showy ones who turned their noses at everyone else. Followed by a few quick knocks on the door, you just stepped in with a soft smile even when you were late. It was the first lecture and you were already late. You didn’t even bother to spare a glance at your classmates, and went straight to the only empty seat on the other side of the room.

But I didn’t remember why we talked after that section, just outside of the classroom. It’s really unreasonable when I think about it now. Maybe one of us heard that we were both attending another class in our silly little self-introductions, and decided to make friends. 

I wasn’t exactly a nice person at that time. Everything was new to me and it scared me. So I curled myself up in my own corner and refused to open up that easily. I thought I couldn’t make friends. I didn’t want to get hurt. There were people whom called themselves my friends yet eventually left me. So I had walls built around me.

But then, I agreed to have lunch with you, and two other classmates when the class ended. I barely knew everyone but one of the two were so caring to me so I couldn’t just resist. A meal doesn’t hurt, right?

It was pretty comfortable during that meal. We walked and talked. I knew more about you. You were so bright and you always carried that smile with you. It was when I knew I was wrong about you at first. It was when I knew we shared so many similarities indeed.

I didn’t know if you were insecure deep down like me. But I knew, you wouldn’t hurt me.

You seemed a lot closer to that boy. I noticed. It wasn’t that I liked you. It was just too obvious that you talked a lot more with him than the rest of us. I didn’t really mind, I just thought maybe I had made things awkward between us due to my stupid defense instinct, my deep-rooted sense of insecurity.

I was a happy child. But I yearned for appreciation and praises, just like normal kids.  The only thing was, I seldom get them. My parents loved me, they understood me. They gave everything I ever needed. They were the only ones who saw my worth. So I got confused: was it because I was their daughter or was it because I was truly a worthy child?

Not many appreciated my talents, or, simply, abilities. I knew I wasn’t the best. Still, I just wanted a “you do well” or “it’s good”. They would just say “you can do better”, or, “you should have done that instead”.

I tried to change myself.  However, there is no use. It was too painful trying to be someone you weren’t.

There were more people who recongized my worth as I grew up. I should be happier but I didn’t. Because I started to have a fear towards my future. If nothing really stays the same, then what kind of person I would be when time keeps ticking? Would I eventually change into someone I wasn’t?

Out of the blue, we discussed all these things in one of the classes. It deeply shocked me when you said you had experienced the same thing as I did.  

It was when I wanted to know why you could always smile. It was when I wanted to know more and more about you. We were like so similar yet so different from each other. As if I could never understand you in any sort, as if we come from different planets.

In that year, I met so many people that made me change my mind too. Although no one brought such an impact like you. I opened up. I made friends. I was happy.

We started to get closer after finding out we had a common friend. We all knew he swung the other way and we often made friendly jokes of him about that. And sometimes, I wondered how you really thought about it in that way.

I wouldn’t say you were beautiful or you weren’t. Your appearance wasn’t the most outstanding but there was something about you that made you special. At least, for me. I wouldn’t say I liked you, romantically. I had never liked or loved someone and I had never known how it felt. I read it from books, I heard it from people around me. 

Although I didn’t know much, I knew I didn’t like you in that way. It was simply enough for me to know. It was because I didn’t think of you when someone said they liked me. It wasn’t that pleasant to turn down her affection so coldly. I basically felt nothing and the answer almost came out of impulse. And I even came up with a conclusion that I didn’t swing that way.

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.” “I wish you would find someone better.”

Inevitably, I changed a little after hat. Maybe I wasn’t that bad, if there was a person out there bearing romantic feelings for me. Maybe love wasn’t that far away from me.

After all, I just knew there was no thoughts of you in my brain then. So I didn’t like you.

It could be confusing occasionally though. 

When we bumped into each other on another class in the following semester. When you wrapped your arms around me and greeted me. When you leaned onto my shoulder as the class got boring. When you called me forgetting there was no class one day.

When you stared until I turned and threw you a questioning look. When you asked if we could meet up for lunch every week before class. When you texted me to see if I was alright since I didn’t utter a single word the whole day.

You might not know she was in the same room as we did the whole time, the very same one whom confessed to me, whom I rejected, whom glared at me from time to time.

I didn’t want to give people a wrong impression so I kept a distance between us. I didn’t want you to get into that mess. I didn’t want to hurt you.

But you were always there. You somehow found out about that later. I missed your texts so you called that day. I was on my way home, heading to the empty bus stop, a deserted road, one late evening.

Tears threatened to fall the second I heard your concerned voice. Did you care about me that much? What did you think about me really? 

“Am I a bad person?” I faintly spoke up after you bombarded me with thousands of encouraging words. You even assured I didn’t have to avoid you just because of her.

“You’re talking nonsense.” You however managed to chuckle on the side of the phone. “Why would anyone think you are a bad person, huh? You might not be the most gentle and considerate person on this earth but you are you, you are nice.”

“But-”

“Don’t care about what she said. She was delusional. You have never played with anyone’s feelings. We all know you treat her as a friend in need only. You did the right thing.”

“H-how did you know?”

“I have my ways. Anyway, don’t be bothered by her. If you do, she wins. It’s what she wants.”

I sighed as I leaned onto a railing. “Sometimes, I want to ask her why. ”

You laughed again. I could imagine that wide smile on your face. “Because you’re a great person? We can’t be nice to everyone 24/7 and we can’t make everyone happy. We don’t live to make the others happy.”

It stuck me. I stayed silent, rubbing my feet against the concreted earth as the chilly breeze of early February swayed my locks. It was a rather cold day but I decided to stand there during the whole phone call. I was glad that I wore my thickest coat that day.

“Don’t you understand, you shouldn’t feel guilty.” You panted a little since you were rushing to have your part-time job. “You don’t deserve this.”

“I’m better now. Thanks.” I muttered as I resumed walking to the bus stop.

“Promise you will get out of this tomorrow.” You insisted before you hung up.

“I promise, okay?” I smiled.

“Then I have to see you smile when I see you again.”

“Fine.” 

We were friends, we were classmates. 

I daren't to ask you the things I wanted to ask. There were many.  We weren’t too close. Just a little distance between us, just enough to keep my mind away from you.

We had never talked about romance, apart from that time about me and her. We had never talked about boys, weirdly. We had never met outside the campus. I daren’t to think more on that. I shouldn’t, and I couldn’t.

The only time we met outside, was when you were leaving for another country, leaving for a year. It was kind of a farewell dinner, along with our common friend. I lived quite far away so you kindly suggested we should meet up near my place. 

I wasn’t particularly sad about it because it wasn’t the end of the world and you wasn’t dying. You would come back eventually.

We were all chatting cheerfully about our further plans and dreams. We even bought a bottle of beer for each from a convenient store as if it was something to celebrate. Well, except you because you couldn’t really drink. He left early because he had a meeting to attend next morning. I knew the directions so I walked you to the bus terminal that night. 

We didn’t talk. I just fiddled with the label on the glass bottle and bored my eyes on that golden liquid. And you just marched your steps, one by one. It was a breezy summer night so it wasn’t too bad. 

I had a good tolerance on alcohol but that beer was too much for me. My cheeks burnt a little as I gulped half of it down to my throat. Perhaps it was hot, perhaps it was awkward. It went pretty bad since I failed to find the right route for you when we got to the bus terminal. You laughed when I finally found it, even though I just wanted to bury myself in a hole.

You turned to me when we lined up for the bus, “You know you shouldn’t drink too much.” 

“Just tonight.” I lifted a smile looking down at the empty bottle. “My home is just nearby, I’ll be safe.”

“Too many cold drinks are bad for your health. You should take care of yourself better.” 

“Hm. I will. You should too, it’s a foreign country after all.”

And you suddenly nudged me, “Do you think a year is too long?”

“Well… You chose a year yourself so I figure you will be fine? You would get to see the world as you've always wanted?” 

“All of a sudden I regret a little.” You sticked out your tongue childishly. “What if I can’t adapt to the lifestyle there?”

“Make up your mind, woman.” I giggled as I softly patted your head. You were slightly shorter than me anyways.

You looked up slowly but you didn’t smile back, “Then I’ll see you next year.”

“I think I'll still be here.” I shrugged it off. I didn’t want it to become something that sorrowful when we had to part our ways.

The bus came at the right time and I waved at you. It drove away in no time and I didn’t look back. I headed straight to the recycle bin and threw the bottle away. I felt weird.

It was restless when I walked home that tonight. I knew I wasn’t drunk. I doubted if I really liked you. I doubted if I really swung that way.

But there was no answer. Day after day, I didn’t find myself particularly miss you. Yet, there were traces of you in my life and constantly reminded me that you existed. Because I didn’t hear from you since then.

I still lived merrily as the way it was. I made plans. I made more friends. I got even closer with them than you. I got even happier, without you.

The moment I nearly convinced myself that I had felt something for you, that strange idea vanished with you. I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not.

You came back when I almost forgot about you. I heard the news from our common friend. He just causally brought it up one day. I was a little disappointed, didn't you know? I wasn’t asking much.

You were there when the elevator door opened. You still looked the same, you hadn’t changed much. I didn’t know whether I should get in as if we were strangers, or I should say hi first. I had my temper so I looked away. You didn’t say anything since there were other people.

But you followed me out as it reached my floor.  

“Hey, how are you doing?” You gave a gently tap on my shoulder.

I pulled off my friendliest smile, “Fine, I guess?” I didn’t want to sound bitter since I wasn’t. Yes, we were friends. You had no obligations to tell me when you were coming back, just like I had no obligations to tell you everything happened to me when you were gone.

“Look, I came back in one piece!” You brightly exclaimed. “A year might be long but there were a lot of-”

“I- Sorry.” I had to cut her off as my phone rang. Just another text.

“Boyfriend?” You carefully asked studying my expression. I must have frowned.

One of my hands gripped onto the strip of my backpack, “It’s just my professor. I'm on my way meeting her.”

“Oh. Something urgent?”

I shook my head weakly, I knew I should at least tell you that. “I am transferring to another school. It’s my turn to leave the country. It’s better for me to go there if I want to get a master degree.” 

You, however, didn’t seem to be prepared for that. It took you some time to say another word. “Congratulations then. It’s a great opportunity.” Your tone was flat. Were you really happy for me?

“I am leaving at the end of this month.” I tried to look into your eyes, sincerely. “I wanted to tell you earlier but there was no way. You were just gone like a wind.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You have your reasons.”  I felt bad hearing your apology. I didn't need it.

You hung your head low so I couldn’t catch a glimpse of your face, “I am selfish, I’m sorry.” 

“Now you are talking nonsense.” I smiled recalling that phone call we had.

Probably sensed that I smiled, you looked up, “Will you come back?”

“Maybe after I got that master degree. Three years later?”

“It takes... so long. Things have changed in a year already.” You let out a bitter chuckle.

“We gotta take chances, right?” I tried to cheer things up. I remembered you said you wanted to experience something different while you were young so you took that chance and left for an alien country for 365 days.

You just stood there and sealed your lips. So I walked away to my professor’s office. It’s my turn to leave and I still didn’t look back. 

And you weren’t there when I came out after the brief meeting. I was half relieved. I knew I couldn’t deal with you. It was too overwhelming to see you again, reappearing in my peaceful life. You just rippled my peaceful life. I couldn’t think properly for the rest of the day. I thought I might like you but… I wasn’t sure. 

I thought it would be something far more passionate, stronger. Not anything like this. There were nothing happened between us.

I got off the bus and was about to head home. You were there. The same bus terminal. Where I sent you away, on that bus. A year ago.

You finally said something when we were at that little park, just around the corner of my house.

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” I heaved a sigh and paced towards the swings. 

“For being late.” You laughed, once again. “Being late for everything.”

“Yeah, you were late when we first met.” I joked at that funny piece of memory.

“I wanted to let you know earlier. But then I heard about her.” You raised your voice so that I could hear you clearly. “I got scared. So I kept it to myself.”

I turned around, trying to make sense of your words.

You continued staring at your shoes, “I always wanted you to know. But things always got in my way. I had planned to have that trip before I met you. I thought I could let go during my stay there but I just couldn’t. I saw you again, after a whole damn year, and I still couldn’t let go. Is it too late now?”

“Know what?” I my chapped lips.

Yours curved a smile although your eyes were sad, “Is it too late if I tell you I like you? Is it too late for me to take my chances this time?”

“I still have to leave.”  I whispered since it was a cruel fact to say it out loud. The documents were all set. I didn’t know how I really felt for you, how to react at your sudden confession. I didn’t expect that, at all.

I didn’t expect that when you threw yourself into my arms, “I know… I just want you to know before you leave.”

“Thank you then.” I nodded as I returned the hug.

“I’ll miss you.” Your arms were wrapped around me so tightly.

I knew I should clear up my mind at that moment, I knew the time had come. I should just act along my instinct, “Will you wait ?”

You pulled away and your face brightened up instantly, “Of course I will!”

“I'll come back very soon.” I patted your head like I used to. “Maybe we can work something out then, if you still like me.”

“Please, don’t take too long.” You pulled me close and enclosed me in your arms again. “I really like you.”

I sent you off to the bus once again that night. I watched the bus disappear from my sight before walking back to my house.

I didn’t tell you that night.

But. Maybe I did like you. I like you too. And I want you to know that when I am back. 

So this story can be read in many ways.

It could be Wendy or Irene's POV.

I have left much room for your interpretations. Even for their ending.

Because this story means something to me?

 
(p.s. you can also find me on Twitter @AD_saudades)

xo