He never noticed her; they were in the same CCA for about 4 months now. Their life had been in parallel. So close, yet he never saw her. They were but a couple of centimeters away from each other. It wasn’t, until one day, that he noticed her, knew of her existence.
It had been the same; choir was like a routine, practice section by section. Though it was a routine, he enjoyed it, but not when the teacher began giving a long dreary reprimand. Out of boredom, he began looking around. If only, he had not. If only, the teacher had not reprimanded. Or perhaps, he would still have come to know her. But it was so, that he first lay eyes on her, and immediately, he was smitten. He knew it was love at first sight, for cupid has struck an arrow cleanly into his heart. No bleeding, the arrow was perfect, filling every crevice of the heart, allowing no space for leaking of blood. The arrow stuck, even now, a year later. That will come later. For now, he felt high, in a dream, for surely, he had seen an angel.
The days passed, and he longed, for the day with choir. During choir, he would sneak glances at her. Slowly, she grew more and more beautiful. She was the image of poise, innocence. She was pure, and a lady-like aura exuded from her. To him, she felt like someone from the upper caste. Hating to admit it, he felt undeserving of her, like a toad lusting over a swan. Such was the inner thought, that he dared not meet her eyes. Always, when she looked to his direction, he would look elsewhere, not even daring one second to look into her eyes. If he did, he would likely be drawn deep, into a trance, tossed into dreamland.
He began to inquire about her, doing it with indifference, to prevent suspicion. He approached his best friend, to inquire her email address. However, he did not know. It was until a week later that he stumbled upon her email, while chatting with one of her friends. They began chatting, but only online, they never talked with each other in real life. Then, came the day when the last choir session of the holidays ended, and from that day on until school reopened, his heart opened a huge hole, draining the life out of him. He longed to see her again, but he was being eaten alive by the hole in his heart. Every night, he would think of her, and that only hasten the growth of the hole. He kept his love for her a secret, but it was dying to come out. He could not hold it in, and he told one of his friends.
School reopened, with hope, he looked at the placing of classes, he hoped, to see her name, in his class. However, it was not to be. Only later, did he found out that if only he had taken the physical stream, then he would be in the same class as her. How Fate cruelly plays with one’s feelings. And then, the Pandora’s box opened. His friend revealed the secret. Before long, most of his and her friends knew, and he grew very embarrassed, such that he did not even there look at her for a few days, even if she did not look at him. However, the bright side was she still chatted with him, but he could feel the coldness, the remoteness. Perhaps there never was much amiable atmosphere. He began to despair, and it did not help that she just seemed to grow prettier and prettier with each passing day.
Though she made it very clear she would not like him, he kept holding on to a dream that will probably never come true. Slowly, but surely, he began to lose faith in dreams, in love, in everything he ever thought. He recalled, how naïve he had been last time. He had steadfastly assured himself he would never fall in love, until he has finished Junior College, however, he was proven wrong. How sneaky love can be, like a Stealth Assassin, it sneaks up behind our protagonist and backstabs him, casting cloud to silence him, such that he could not refuse it. Forever silenced and clouded he will be.
The situation soon worsened, as he could not stop thinking of her, and he could not concentrate on his schoolwork. The harder he tried to forget about her, the harder her memory lay etched into his mind. It is pretty ironical that the harder you try to forget something, the harder you remember it. Soon, he gave up all effort of trying to forget her. But the pain in his heart persisted, and suicidal thoughts were at the door of his mind. Choir provided a reprieve, for it was during choir, that he was in close proximity with her, and he could feel her soothing aura, which temporarily heals the scar on his heart. It was a cycle, it would heal, and throughout the weak, the scar was savagely torn open. And then it healed again. Love was playing a game with him, a game that was not fun to him. Soon, love had gained a persona in his mind. He began scolding aloud at it, swearing at it, cursing it. He knew full well, it was just his hallucinations, but he hated love so much.
He began modifying lyrics of songs, hoping for the pain to go away and flow out into the song. But it only made the situation worse. He thought even more of her. Her image was like a never-ending knock on his door. Banging, causing no chance of reprieve. He exhausted all his means of trying to forget her, trying to stop the incessant knocking. With finality, he started to lose hope and slip into darkness.
A sad light shone, turning into white wings that cut through the darkness. It lifted, and he felt lighter. The love for her remained, but for some reason, he felt free. Could it be he lost his mind? Or had he reached Shangri-La? Even now, he is not sure, he still looked at her, but a nagging voice at the back of his mind reminded him he was not worthy. It was probably he had seen that he would never be worthy of her that brought him out of darkness. He tried to blend in so she would not know him, he tried to disappear from her sight, but his heart aches for her when apart. The scar was still there, forever etched onto his heart, there would be no healing, except by her. He will never be whole again. By now, her visage had grown into a goddess to him. One thing that Love does very well is it plays games with a person, but always leaving an escape route. Love never pushes a person over the cliff. Love played this game very well, and everyone is a prey to it.
One year of suffering passed, the darkness that lifted soon came back, again, during the holidays. She was like a drug, if he was withdrawn from her, there would be withdrawal symptoms. The morning and afternoon passed as normal, but during the night, he would sit up on his bed and break into fits of sobs. Everyday was a pattern, before he slept a wave of sorrow would sweep through every fibre and muscle of his body, causing him to shake in sobs. A never-ending sea of tears fought to gush out, he would break down and reach the brink of insanity, and then the memory would fade, bringing him out of sorrow. Love was tentatively playing with him, but always offering an escape route, relentless though it seems, it will not push a person over the edge. Soon, it became a torture just to stay at home, he longed for school, to see her face again. Towards the end of the holidays, like a ray of light, it pierced through his sorrow, the realization that there is no point in crying, for crying will never bring her to like him. So, all his energy was put into working hard, and waiting. She became a figure of motivation, motivating him to work hard, to be successful.
Our protagonist is still waiting and working hard. Even now, their lives are still in parallel, it never met, though in infinity, it might meet. I came to know of this when he approached me to tell me of it. So I became someone he could confide in, and I promised not to reveal it. Though I did “reveal” it, I did not state his name, it could be just a story, a memory, a hallucination, or it could have happened. This “he” came to me and talked to me. For you see, he is one of my good friends, and I believe he treats me as one. How Love likes to tear someone into shreds and leave him to pick up the broken pieces of his life. All I can do is to offer encouragement; the broken pieces have to pick up by him. Should the girl accept him someday, surely the broken heart would heal, the pieces magically fitting together seamlessly forming a whole, his spirit would be healed, but we can only pray for such a day. For remember, Love is cruel, it works hand in hand with Fate and plays a game with people’s hearts. Don’t be one of its victims.
