Love Letter

I like you.

Of course, at first, I didn’t know you. If only did not Kuya show me your photo he labelled Jessica Sanchez, I would never do. At my first stares, you look like her. I’m not fond of Jessica, but your similarity is interesting.

One time I asked if there’s anyone who could help me out naming the pictures in your block. I did not have that authoritative voice so none heard me, but you and your friend. Oh, that made me smile, only containing gratitude.

Barely i can remember how i knew your name nor even know why I have to know it. If this is crush I am feeling , I am sure this will be gone later. This circumstance had happened a lot of times in the past.

I have to admit that every time you pass I steal a glance, every time I catch a glimpse of your face you make my eyes fixed, but I don’t open it with anybody, even with my closest friends. It’s just they know me.

The teasing started then, so I decided not to deny. The whole class learned it, so what? I kept dancing with the rhythm of their jokes, as well as dancing with the days I saw you. However, literally, I don’t dance. That was a good proof you’re just a crush. I don’t dance when I am in love, I sing.

Though the slightest notion of You-Being-With-Me didn’t occur to me, because I wasn’t that dreaming, I was surprised I asked your number from Choipée.

My past heart issues resurfaced. I hate it. Why people are too nosy? At fist I get mad because talking about what’s already thrown away is annoying. But now, it’s because it may ruin my new heart issues. When you saw my old photos with Her because of their insensitivity, I was truly embarrassed.

I tried to stop these corny stuffs. Stressed with my studies and more, I fought off these thoughts. I distracted myself.

I was not disappointed when Ate told me you had had boyfriend. I was disappointed when I found out shortly you had broken up. Texting you made me feel like I want to comfort you, though I didn’t overdo it. To tell you, I always remind you to call me kuya, but I like it when you don’t.

It was sincere when I made your fan sign, when I compliment you. It was nerve-shaking when we sat together for a real conversation. I was speechless. But the feeling is beautiful…

I don’t like another love story, really, but you came. And that is what is hard. I work hard to stop this feeling because I am afraid I may hurt you later. When we had our next-to-last rehearsal for the Christmas concert, i watched you, frozen. The stars hung around posts and trees are bright, but they’re dimmed by your lovely cat-like eyes. That was the day I realized you actually don’t look like Jessica. You are far prettier than she is.

We didn’t have any picture during the concert. No picture, ever. Until I found out we have one, stolen the day we first talked. That’s enough.

We parted with no good-byes because I didn’t attend the Christmas Party. But I guess, that’s just fine. I am so stupid, so afraid of what I don’t know. I just tell these things for you to know that you inspired someone. These are only words, I know, it’s OK to believe they’re merely lies. But you know, I started singing many days ago.

I really like you.

Gibson Perez

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