Lles and I disagree about a lot of things and agree about a few things. One of those few things we agree about is not being able to write when we’re sad, and possibly being in the best mood to write when we’re in love. So when I was reading Why We Broke Up, with all the words weaving a story about love (albeit a bittersweet one, because everyone knows they broke up) I sort-of felt that I wanted to write a story (again) and it’ll be about us except, hopefully, a happier one.

“Every ending is a beginning,” or some form of that phrase is such a cliche. But it’s true. I ended a fling and your ex-girlfriend ended your relationship and, maybe, I was done being stupid and you were done being sad.

We’ve been almost-friends for two years before. Not really close. You told me you saw me as an acquaintance even, and only as a friend when I started asking you for advice. The whole romantic thing between us felt so out-of-the-blue for me and I don’t think anybody in that old org circle believed that I didn’t like you didn’t want you before really, anything actually happened. Ending up with you was not even on any kind of list that I’ve imagined for myself before graduation. Amidst all the rumors and all the names I had almost nobody to believe that I had not planned anything never imagined anything had never ever foreseen anything happening until one night — the night before you kissed me.

So I guess we were really fast (you were really fast) at first but that’s still not the beginning.

My first unforgettable memory of you was of you singing and playing songs on your ukelele to cheer me up. We were still (just) friends then and I went to you with my confused feelings for a different person because I was being stupid and you told me I wasn’t that type of person. We rode a trike to that burger place across the school (which you haven’t tried) and hung out for maybe an hour while I poured out my jumbled thoughts and feelings and then you shared a little about yours.

(I also remember some of the older alumni passing by and seeing us and Mikko giving me a teasing look which I dismissed because it was so ridiculous then.)

Every time I asked you, you told me the it started for you somewhere around the time when I gave you a letter on my (advance) birthday dinner (which I gave to everyone anyway, except it turned out that ‘everyone’ else hated me but I didn’t know it, which really is a different heartbreaking story and I just can’t ever forget it). I didn’t think it was special and all I remember from that letter was a gesture to cheer you up a little because you were so…lost, and I knew a bit of that kind of feeling. It had a bit of the other letters (apologies and gratitude) and at that time I didn’t know things will change drastically between me and each person I have invited (stupid birthdays, really) but it felt sad already and when everyone was gone and you told me that the letter helped, I said that at least there was one good thing that happened that night. 

But for me. I only ever entertained the possibility of falling for you a night or so later, when Angelica asked us out for some drinks and everyone in their season of sadness was trying to get a little tipsy and we were all heartbroken in our own way. After we, as proper friends, got her drunk enough I started sharing with you a couple of morbid thoughts except you smiled and I thought you understood and before the night ended you asked me to go to a shoot for a film that wasn’t yours. I was hesitant but you called me up when I got home (or maybe you asked me to call you? Because I don’t really remember) and told me you’ve cleared it up with the guys and you would really want me to be there.

And I guess that was it, in the beginning. I was wanted and needed by someone (even though not necessarily in a romantic sense) and I had such a big desire to feel helpful and significant. That was the night that I felt a little…weird about something, which I dismissed pretty quickly, until the evening that followed after. 

That night was when I felt the first sense of doubt and wonder (did I feel something between us or was it the alcohol and my natural weirdness?). It was more like a trigger for something bigger and messier. At that time I still had faith in most people so I never really thought that a start of a romance would bring so much trauma and sadness.

But it did and it took a lot of crying and getting-over-things before I truly felt happy. 

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