To you my dear friend,
The day we officially became close friends, I had these pink swollen eyelids (puffy eyes) from crying the last night after the release of our exam results. You’ve seen me as a smart girl, dressed in a manner admirable; you cannot almost pinpoint the flaws. Then, I failed the damn exam. I cried it out heavily at the lavatory, and then insanely went at home trying to find ice cream. The next day, instead of being too judgmental about my grades or asking me what happened, in which most of our classmates did, you approached me and randomly told me about how cool my fishtail braid was. That was when I realized; I am more than just my grades.
I am writing you a letter, because you are special, obviously. But what is so unique about us is that, we aren’t really lovers nor best friends. We are an acquaintance bound forever, in little moments like; smiling at each other five tables apart at the library. We are bound by the I-fucking-hate-this-day kind of conversations and talking about it until 3:00 am. We are not as cheesy as those whom we see on social media, because there’s really no such thing as cheese in our relationship, I’m laughing because I’m thinking of pizza and beer again, maybe that’s our partnership. You are the beer to my pizza life. You make my life go wild yet I still offer a lot of carbs in your life. Haha! Sorry not sorry!
During the days I was extremely sad, I didn’t expect you to be there for me. You have a life of your own and I got mine. You are busy with pre-review stuffs and I am also busy getting my life back together at school. However, you came to listen when it seems like most people didn’t want to hear my rants or dramas (well, mostly because I didn't want to annoy them too much). You came when everybody turned his or her back (because they have exams the next day). You nod even if I was really hard to understand, I'm aware because I don't even understand myself too. When I was pretending to be so goddamn happy with my life, you were the only one who knew I was lying.
I’ve been trying to write on the days when I was sad; I thought I was good at writing my feelings when I am doomed. But I was wrong, some days you will just run out of words to say. You don’t even want to verbalize what you feel, but what you know is that it’s not okay. Maybe I’m better at writing the things that makes me happy. You make me happy.
The books I have read, the movies I have watched and the people I have met, they all taught me about love, falling in love, getting out of it, loving less, hopeless romanticizing, unrequited love, those “love” people knew in general. But, they never taught me the kind of “love” we had, it’s not hopeless, it’s more than friendship and less than lovers. It’s the kind of love that makes you want to live and look for love even more. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t make you feel sad. It’s the kind of love with no expectations. It’s quiet and loud at the same time. It’s the love that people might be dying to have. I can hear you say, “You are one lucky bitch!”
Last week, if still given the chance to write down what I felt, it would go like this: No. I am not lucky. I have always felt the need of a best friend whom I can run to if ever my parents would like to kick me out of the house. I want to have my own checker, who texts me 7 times in a row just to see if I’m okay, or those who delivers free Starbucks coffee at my doorsteps during examination week; just as I would do for them. It’s hard to still live at the idea, that one day someone will walk in to my life and change it. But that is because who wouldn’t want the feeling of being loved back?
But, one night after that heavy drinking session with you, the words came out suddenly, the way that pushed me to write this letter; “You are the kind of person, I am scared of losing”. I didn’t know you think of me that way. It’s not “I love you – forever”, but it’s greater, greater for me.
Amidst all these people, trying to hold back their tears from those things that doesn’t love them back, or from things that they keep on loving and loving sometimes it gets tiring they just cry. I hope they find love, like ours. Just when I thought I was living a lonely life, you came and it doesn’t need any labels, it is not even a commitment, it’s just love and I couldn’t ask for more.
That’s right, I am one lucky bitch. (No, no. You are luckier because you have me as pizza.)
P.S. I’m scared of losing you too.